Phantom of Crawford College
by MistyLady
Summary: UPDATED Ch 15. Based off of several versions of Phantom and my own college experiences, Erik, Christine, Raoul, Meg, and a few others are placed into the campus setting of Crawford College.
1. Fresh Start

_Disclaimer: Well, since this is fanfiction, it is obviously based off of already published and therefore copyrighted work. All characters and such that seem familiar are property of Leroux, Kay, ALW, et.all. If any parts of the storyline seem familiar yet not from the afore mentioned people, you are probably either from Caz or are weird (I apologize if I accidentally use a major part of someone's already-posted story, please let me know!) Any song lyrics used are property of the stated groups/persons and their associates. I wish I could profit from this story (and thus, their use) but I cannot and will not.  
_

_With that said, enjoy the adventure! _

Chapter 1 Fresh Start

Christine gazed out the taxi window as the driver wove his way around the campus to her assigned dorm building. This was move-in day at Crawford College and Christine was about to begin her sophomore year. She transferred from another school so the campus was totally unfamiliar to her.

"Majestic Hall?" came a rough voice from the driver's seat. Christine snapped out of her daze and read the sign on the building.

"Yes, please," she replied quietly, and turned her attention outside once more as the driver searched for a parking spot. The campus was teeming with people. Some were students unloading crammed cars full of dorm room accessories—microwaves, televisions, computers, etc—and others were greeting friends from the previous year. There were also numerous parents helping their children unload and settle into the new school year. The taxi cab finally came to a halt and Christine stepped out. She wiped a solitary tear from her blue-gray eyes. No one was there to greet her. Her parents were not there to help her settle in. Even the taxi driver, after unloading her belongs from the trunk and receiving his money, had driven away. Christine was all alone. She straightened her lavender blouse, smoothed her black dress pants, and pushed her long dark brunette hair over he shoulder. With a sigh, she picked up her belongings and entered Majestic Hall, her home for the coming months.

* * *

_Senior year, _Raoul thought to himself as he stepped out of his silver BMW convertible and heard a beep from his remote door locks. _I just have to make it through this final year._ He had just finished hauling the last load up the 3 flights of stairs to his dorm room in Majestic Hall, and was looking forward to relaxing with a few of his buddies before starting the long process of unpacking. He was looking for a familiar blonde girl when someone else caught his eye. Raoul froze in place watching a lovely brunette dressed in a lavender blouse step out of a taxi across the street from him. After the taxi pulled away, the girl awkwardly grabbed her bags and a large box and began waking toward Majestic Hall. Raoul rushed over to her. 

"Hi, can I help you with your things?" he asked the girl. She continued walking and then glanced at him as if she failed to realize he was talking to her. Her pale features turned a shade of pink as she blushed and looked at the ground.

"Um, no thank you," she stuttered. She began to walk away but had to rebalance as some of her bags were removed.

"Please, let me take some of your load," Raoul insisted, blue eyes sparkling and flashing his blinding smile. Christine gave a small appreciative smile and informed him that her room was on the third floor. "Hey, mine to. Isn't that convenient?"

"I guess so. I'm Christine, Christine Daaé"

"Raoul Chagney, please to make your acquaintance."

After checking in and depositing her bags on the bed, Raoul stood in the doorway to Christine's corner room, which was only 3 doors down from his, and glanced around at the empty white walls, blue carpet, and bare furniture. Dorm rooms always looked so barren and sterile on the first day. There was a twin-sized bed, a desk, a bureau, a built-in closet, and a large full-length mirror. His own room was identical except for the mirror. He watched her sort through some of her things. She looked tired and downtrodden. Raoul couldn't imagine what would make such a beautiful girl so sad. _She looks lonely,_ he thought.

"Hey, Christine. I'm still waiting for a friend of mine to arrive. Want to join me?" Christine looked at him in surprise. He barely knew her 10 minutes and was already asking her to hang out with him. She opened her mouth to decline, but at the hopeful, caring look in his eyes she agreed. They headed down the stairs and waited for Raoul's friend to arrive.

Christine and Raoul made small talk while sitting on the decorative stone wall outside of the dorm building. She could feel the warm summer sun heat her skin through the thin material of her blouse. Raoul was chatting about the latest college gossip, but Christine paid little attention to what he was saying. His dark blonde spiky hair had golden highlight from the sun and his brilliant blue eyes were friendly and welcoming. She only now noticed his stylish khaki pants, and green polo shirt. _He looks like an Abercrombie & Fitch model, _Christine thought to herself. Raoul had the classic preppy boy good looks and fashion. He seemed like the kind of guy that everybody couldn't help but like.

"...so I was President of my senior class in high school, and graduated in the top 10 percent of my class. I would have liked to be higher, but at least it kept my parents happy. I think I'm probably my own toughest critic." Christine snapped back to reality and looked him in the eye.

"So you are a senior here?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I know it doesn't seem to make sense me being a business management major at Crawford since this is definitely more of an arts school, but my father went here and it's far enough away from home that my parents can't pester me. I like being in the country too. I get sick of city life. So, how about you? What's your story?"

"I'm a sophomore vocal major," Christine replied. "This is the best voice school I could find that would give me enough of a scholarship so I could come." Christine grew quiet and Raoul could see the clouds of sadness roll into her eyes. It was like her mind was off somewhere else. He was about to ask what was wrong when a familiar voice began shouting his name.

"Raoul! Hey, Raoul Chagney!" Christine fought the mist growing in her eyes and looked up to see a petite blonde girl wearing a pink halter top sundress standing next to a lime green Beetle, shouting and waving like a maniac.

"HEY!" Raoul shouted back and jumped off of the stone wall. He turned to help Christine down and together they hurried over. The blonde girl threw down her bags and launched herself into Raoul's arms, giving him a huge hug.

"OH MY GOD! It's been like forever since I've seen you!" she said, stepping back and pushing a light blonde section of hair out of her face. Raoul turned to Christine, who was standing there in bewilderment.

"Christine, this is Megan Giry. Meg, this is Christine Daaé." The girls smiled and shook hands. Before she even had a chance to prepare herself, Christine found herself in Meg's embrace. Meg was very high-strung and energetic.

"Yo guys, are we gonna just like leave me stuff here all day, or are you gonna help me move in?" she asked with a chuckle. All three smiled and picked up bags and boxes. Meg had so much stuff crammed into her Beetle that they had to make two trips up to the third floor. Once everything was scattered in Meg's room across the hall from Raoul's, they all gathered in Christine's room since it was the most organized one at the moment. Meg made Christine's bed up with linens that were neatly folded inside a pillowcase and then sat down to watch Christine unload one of her suitcases. Christine opened the closet door and hung up several garments.

"Hey! You have a huge mirror. That's not fair!" Meg protested from the bed. Raoul was sitting at the desk hooking up cables to Christine's laptop. Within a few minutes, the room was fairly organized and almost everything was unpacked. Christine dug a box of chocolates out of one suitcase that was still packed and passed it to her new friends. Last year, she had been severely depressed and shut herself in her room, going out only for classes. This year was already looking better and brighter than her freshman year. Already she had two very nice acquaintances and, more importantly, a smile upon her delicate face.

* * *

Erik looked out his small window at the crowds below. He hated the first day back to college. The peace and quiet of summer turned into ruckus and irritating banter as people moved in. Erik spent his summers taking a class or two, but mostly just worked in his room at the end of the third floor hallway of Majestic Hall. He was about to turn away in disgust when the most beautiful girl he had ever seen stepped out a taxi cab. He felt a catch in his throat and gazed wide-eyed as the sun glistened off her dark brunette ringlets. She looked around and finally picked up her bags and headed toward the dorm hall entrance. _I may have to keep an eye on that girl_, Erik thought. He raced from the window, grabbed a sketchpad from his desk and began to pencil a started to draw an incredible likeness of his mystery girl. 


	2. Coffee Shop Drama

Chapter 2Coffee Shop Drama

The next morning, Meg invited Christine for coffee in the college's café, Common Grounds. "I discovered this neat little spot during orientation over the summer," Meg had said. The girls talked for a few hours in the cozy, dark café. Meg entered Crawford College this year as a freshman majoring in dance. Her mother, Madame Giry had just gotten a job at the school as an adjunct music professor.

"So how did you and Raoul meet?" Christine asked. "He probably told me yesterday while waiting for you, but I had zoned out." She started blushing. Meg noticed and got a gleam in her eye.

"Raoul tends to have that effect on most girls."

"Yeah...Oh!" Christine looked up startled. What had she done? She did all but admit that she was attracted to Raoul right in his girlfriend's face! "I'm, I'm sorry!" she stammered. "I-I didn't mean anything by it..."

"Why should I care if you like him?" She then realized Christine's misunderstanding, and started to giggle. "Ah, I see now. You're worried that I'm the jealous girlfriend. No, we dated for a while, but that was it. We are just really good friends now." She continued and answered Christine's initial question. "We went to the same prep school academy. I was more focused on dance and him on business and finance, but we did see each other during core classes and around campus. We just sort of hit it off, him being class President and me being Captain of our dance team. I never thought I would have a relationship with somebody like him. He is heir to practically and empire! You've heard of Chagney Enterprises, right?" Christine nodded. They were one of the largest conglomerates in the world. She had not thought to put Raoul and the company together.

"When he graduates, he will be working for his father until he is experienced enough to run the company himself. Talk about pressure! Getting back to Raoul and I, we tried dating, but we both quickly realized that we were better off as best friends, almost like brother and sister."

"You two certainly look like siblings," Christine chimed in. "I..."

"Vhat do you means you are out oof soy!" an angry screeching voice filled the small café and cut off Christine. The two girls turned to look at the screaming girl. They couldn't quite decide which was louder: the girl's ranting, or her bright red and orange Hawaiian-print dress.

"I _need_ a soy latté!"

"I'm sorry, miss, we are all out of soy until tomorrow," the clerk said with wide eyes.

"I VANT TO SPEAK TO ZEE MANAGER!"

"Carlotta Guidicelli," Meg said at Christine's questioning look. "She's a transfer student from Italy. She's a junior in voice, I think. Total prima donna. Raoul was telling me about her. She supposedly trained at the Paris Opera Academy for like ever, and thinks she is god's musical gift to the world. She can hit unbelievable notes, but secretly, Mom thinks she sounds like a dying cat." Meg and Christine both giggled. The black-haired girl stormed over and slammed a hand down on their table.

"And just vhat are you two laughing at?" she snapped. She did indeed have an accent.

"Just the fact that I think the clerk needs to find a new change of pants," Meg replied without missing a beat. "What with your voice and all, that would be enough to scare anybody!" Carlotta glared down on them as Christine and Meg tried to cover their giggles.

"You vill learn to laugh at me yous insignificant children!" She marched back to the door and slammed it open, letting loose several phrases and expletives in Italian.

"I'm sorry about that, Christine. I forgot that you will probably have most of your classes with her."

"Don't worry about it. I've handled worse than her," Christine smiled at Meg and took her last sip of green tea. Inside, though, she wasn't so sure of herself. People like Carlotta somehow seemed to get to her.

Meg had to run off to her first class of the year, so Christine decided to take advantage of the warm sunny weather to explore the campus. She soon found herself in the middle of the brick music buildings, the place she would spend most of her time once classes started. She opened the door to one of the buildings, Sullivan Hall, and went to step inside. She looked up just in time to collide with a tall black-clad figure on his way out.

"Opps! I'm sorry," she said wide-eyed and looked down in embarrassment. The man cleared his throat in response and hurried out into the sunshine. It took a few moments for the image of the man to reach her brain. He was dressed completely in black, with a stylish black trench coat, and a black fedora that hid his face in shadow. What struck Christine as odd was the bright white mask he wore over right side of his face. She felt strangely drawn to him and was overcome with the urge to introduce herself. She turned around quickly to track him down, but even though their confrontation happened only seconds ago, he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, she entered the building.

"Well, who is this guy that has you all talkative all of a sudden?" Meg asked later in the cafeteria.

"I don't know, but he looked too old to be a freshman," Christine replied, taking a forkful of spaghetti.

"Describe him. I've probably seen him around," Raoul insisted between bites of garlic bread.

"Well, he was tall, probably little over six foot, dressed in all black with a fedora and a trench coat..."

"Ok, that weeds out little over half of the male student population around here," Raoul smirked, referring to the odd dressing trends of the school's art students.

"He was also pretty handsome from what little I could see of his face. It was in shadow from his hat and the right half was covered with a mask..." Christine jumped at the sound of Raoul's fork dropping on his empty plate and Meg started choking on her chocolate milk.

"Did you just say he was wearing a mask?" Raoul asked, eyes wide in alarm.

"Yes, a white one, but I don't see..." she stammered, confused at her friends' sudden reactions.

"Stay way from him, Christine," Raoul learned closer and spoke with a low warning tone. "That man, that _thing_, is dangerous."

"Dangerous? What do you mean? What has he done?" Christine asked in frightened curiosity. Raoul scanned the room and then proceeded in a hushed voice.

"He has been here longer then most students remember. He never seems to go to class, and he never graduates. He's rarely seen around campus at any time and very few even know his name, so most just call him The Phantom. He has no known family, and rumor has it that he is a murderer. Of the several 'suicides' that have happened on campus, most people think he murdered them or drove them to it. That man is unpredictable, and a cold-blooded killer. Stay away from him, Christine. You too, Meg. Just STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" His expression was one of seriousness and fear. Meg was practically his sister and he wasn't sure exactly what he felt about Christine yet, but he did not want to see these two innocent girls fall at the hands of this _monster_.

"Hey, I heard that Delta Cappa Gamma is throwing a party tomorrow night in celebration of the new school year and their new members. We should go!" Meg said enthusiastically after a few silent moments.

"Sure, I'm game," Raoul said in response, chugging the last of his ginger ale.

"Umm, a frat party?" Christine asked hesitantly. "I've never been to one but I've heard they get pretty wild."

"Oh come on, Christine. What's the worst that can happen when we'll be there with you?" Meg grabbed a hold of Christine's arm, face full of excitement and anticipation. Christine smiled and shrugged. "Alright, I'll go. Like you said, what's the worst that can happen?


	3. Stranger to the Rescue

Chapter 3Stranger to the Rescue

The next day, Christine made her way to her first class, vocal theory. She was nervous when she realized that there were no familiar faces in the room. She sat down in the only available seat left in the crowded chorus room and groaned when she recognized the girl sitting next to her. Carlotta was looking straight ahead and only gave short, arrogant answers to questions she was being asked. A petite woman walked gracefully into the room. She was wearing a conservative gray dress and had her blonde hair, streaked with shades of gray, pulled back tightly into a neat bun.

"Good morning, class. This is MU130 Vocal Theory. I am your instructor, Madame Giry."

_Giry,_ Christine thought. _She must be Meg's mom. I'll have to introduce myself later._

"I have started passing the syllabus around. As you all can see, this also cover's next semester's companion class, Vocal Methods. We will all be participating in several workshops and performances in conjunction with your other vocal classes, the dance program, and the various ensemble programs offered here at Crawford." Christine watched the stack of packets worked their way down her row. Carlotta grabbed the top one and carelessly dropped the stack in Christine's direction without even glancing her way. Christine leaped to catch the stack, but papers went flying to the floor and under seats.

"Vhat a clumsy fool!" Carlotta announced loudly as Christine dropped to her knees to retrieve the papers. She sat back up with a flaming red face of embarrassment. Carlotta gazed down her nose with a satisfied grin. She had done it on purpose! Christine passed the stack along and apologized for the disruption.

"Quite alright, dear," Madame Giry smiled at Christine. "Getting back to the task at hand, there is going to be a final singing competition at the end of year. This is a tradition of Crawford College's vocal program. We will discuss this more as the term goes on." Christine tried to keep her mind focused on Madame Giry's words, but found herself reliving the embarrassing event only moments ago. Once her mind started wandering, she drifted back to yesterday's encounter with "The Phantom" and Raoul's warning. The warning faded into a hum as she daydreamed about what might have happened if she had turned around faster to introduce herself. Who was this dangerously mysterious man? More importantly, why did she suddenly feel the need to care?

"Out oof my vay you inept little girl!" Christine snapped out of her daydream to find none other than the Italian diva glaring at her, hands on her hips and a foot tapping. Christine stood up and Carlotta pushed past with her newly acquired entourage of admirers.

That evening could not have come soon enough. Meg and Raoul met at Christine's room to help her select a suitable outfit for the big frat party. They finally settled on a knee-length jean skirt, one of Meg's pale green halter tops, and a pair of chunky white flip-flops also borrowed from Meg. Raoul watched on as Meg wove a few fake flowers into Christine's dark brown ringlets, which were pulled back from her face. Christine walked over to her large mirror next to the closet to inspect the outfit and hair style. Her jaw dropped at what she saw. The girl staring back at her was no longer the depressed, solemn introvert she had come to expect. The reflection that stood before her was much closer to that of Meg and Raoul, happy and fun-loving. She turned around with a smile and asked her friends,

"Well, how do I look?"

"Christine, that's one question you never have to ask," beamed Raoul. "You look perfect." Meg gave her a thumbs-up and rushed over for a hug. Within a few minutes, the three rushed out of the dorm room anticipating a long fun Friday night.

* * *

Erik sat stewing in front of his computer, but found he could not concentrate on the words displayed. All thoughts drifted back to his first glimpse of the girl who now lived next door. She had run into him the day before as he was rushing out of the practice hall before the crowds came in for classes. He had hurried away not wanting to be seen in public. He learned long ago that letting someone get a good look at him in daylight never led anywhere good. He so desperately wanted to take the girl by the hand and introduce himself. He had never felt like this about anyone in his entire life. Any time he saw her or oven pictured her in his mind, every ounce of breath was taken from his chest. 

He could faintly hear voices laughing in the next door room. He moved from his chair with amazing grace and opened his closet door. Once the door was shut behind him, he parted his clothes and silently drew back a black curtain. Before him stood the large two-way mirror that he had installed last year. He didn't have a real purpose for it at the time, but he had gotten bored and thought it might come in handy sometime. He looked in and saw a blonde girl styling the dark blonde locks. A senior boy he had seen around over his years at the college, Raoul, was sitting on the bed supervising the work. She stood up and walked over to the mirror with the grace of an angel. She stared at the mirror and even though Erik knew she was just admiring her own reflection, to him it was as if she was staring into his soul.

"Well, how do I look?" Her voice was clear and magical even with just a simple phrase. It made Erik weak in the knees.

"Christine, that's one question you never have to ask..." _Christine! What a sublime name!_ He was a silent spectator as the three friends grabbed a few final things and walked out of the door. Only then did Erik dare to up his hand up to the glass. _What's the point? Why would someone as stunning as she even bother to give me the time of day?_ He lowered his forehead to the glass and let a solitary tear fall.

* * *

"Raoul? Meg?" Christine shouted above the noise at the party. It had been a while since she had seen her two friends and she wanted to go home. The music was blaring so loud she had to cover her ears. Drunk people were packed into the house which now smelled of sweat, beer, and vomit. Christine had found herself drinking more than she should have. The room was beginning to spin and the bass from the stereo felt like a drill going straight into her head. _I have to get out of here, _she thought and wove her way toward the door. Once outside, she shook her head to clear her vision and started in the direction of Majestic Hall. 

After about 45 minutes of stumbling up the street, she realized she was lost. Christine was not familiar enough with the campus to find her way back in the dark in her condition. She sat herself down on the sidewalk and started to weep. She was cold, sick, alone, and lost. _Damn you, guys,_ she thought of her friends. They had promised nothing bad would happen. She looked up at an unsavory figure stumbling in her direction. He stopped and looked down on her with a bone-chilling grin. She moved to stand up but was not coordinated enough to draw her legs under her.

"Hey, baby. Let daddy take care of you..." he spoke with a raspy voice and reached out to entwine his dirty fingers in her hair. Christine could smell the liquor on his breath and cursed herself for getting into this vulnerable state.

"Just go away," she managed to whisper and closed her eyes and felt herself start to shake. Suddenly, his touch was gone and she heard him quickly shuffle away. She opened her eyes and he was gone. _What just happened?_ she thought as she looked around. She turned around and found herself staring at black pants and the bottom of a trench coat. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to look into the half face/half mask of her rescuer, or so she hoped. His features were once again hidden in nighttime shadows and darkened further by the fedora. _He's dangerous. Stay away from him, Christine,_ Raoul's warning played loudly in her head.

"W-what are you going to do to m-me?" she stammered, eyes wide and locked on his face. There was a long moment of silence before the fear and lingering effects of alcohol totally overcome her and she passed out. Erik moved quickly to catch her before her head hit the sidewalk. He cradled her in his strong arms and stood up. Walking down the street toward Majestic Hall, he couldn't help but notice the way the streetlamps illuminated her fragile features. She groaned in her sleep and snuggled closer to his chest. Erik sighed.

"Yes, dear Christine, just what _am_ I going to do with you?"

Once back at the dorm, he gently set her down and looked for her keys. He unlocked her room and carried her over to the bed. Without turning on any lights, he took off her flip-flops and pulled the covers up over her. He stood back in the shadows and gazed at her angelic face at peace. Even thought the room was almost pitch-black, his eyes could adjust well enough to see every one of her features. He sighed and walked over to the mirror, needed to go back to his own room, but hated to leave this moment.

"Wait, don't leave," called a quiet drowsy voice. Christine stirred but didn't open her eyes. "I don't even know your name."

"Shh," Erik whispered. He walked over and brought her hand to his lips. "There will be time enough for that tomorrow, my sweet angel. You need your rest."

Christine sighed and rolled over. Erik smiled to himself and returned to the mirror. His hand brushed against a hidden latch that noiselessly slid the mirror open, revealing the backside of his closet. Her words echoed in his ears as he made his way into his room.

"_Wait, don't leave. I don't even know your name._


	4. Timid Introduction

Chapter 4 Timid Introduction

Christine awoke to sunshine setting her peach curtains aglow. _Ugh, is it morning already?_ She rolled over and snuggled into her comforter. _My comforter! _She sat up with a start which left her reeling and forced her to lie back down until the dizziness subsided. The last thing she could remember was getting lost after the party and some guy approaching her. She vaguely remembered a white mask. Had her mystery man brought her back to her room? How did he know where she lived? What else did he do to her? She sat up in alarm, slowly this time, and surveyed the room. Everything was as is should be and her purse was hanging on her bedpost as usual. She glanced at her desk and did a double take. Sitting there was a plastic tray with a warm bagel with cream cheese, a steaming mug of herbal tea, and single red rose with a black ribbon tied around it. She pushed herself out of bed, walked over to the desk, and picked up the rose. Pushing her hair out of her face, she inhaled the flower's sweet fragrance. Roses were her favorite flower. Every birthday, her father had given her a present with a fresh red rose on the top. She was ravished, yet the thought of food nauseated her. She instead picked up the mug and took an experimental sip. The steam helped clear the fog out of her head and she could feel warmth radiating through her body. She noticed a cream colored envelope with black-lined edges sitting under the plate. She set the mug down and picked up the envelope. It was heavy weight paper, possibly homemade, and sealed with a red wax skull. She slid he finger under the flap to break the seal and pulled out a matching sheet of stationary. Her eyes grew wider as she read the fountain pen writing.

_Dear Christine,_

_I pray you slept well after last night's events. It is a common mistake at one's first party to over indulge. Please refrain from letting that happen again as I would hate to find you in trouble due to the idiocy of others. I have left you a special breakfast which I have found to be a certain hangover remedy. The tea will help clear your mind and relieve the sickness. The bagel is just enough to satisfy your hunger without making you ill._

_Before I left, you said you wanted to know my name. If you still feel that way this morning, meet me alone tonight at midnight at the clock in the middle of the quad. Also, please keep our encounter a secret. I have my reasons for this request that you need not concern yourself with. _

_I Remain Yours Truly,_

_The Phantom _

Christine read and reread the note over and over again. Raoul's warning still played like a constant beat in the back of her mind, but like the day she first saw The Phantom in front of Sullivan Hall, she felt drawn to him. Suddenly, this day seemed like it was going to last forever. She took a bite out of the bagel and began counting the hours until midnight.

At about 11:30 that night, Christine looked around her room on more time. Everything was organized and clean. She was a very neat person by nature, but had decided to straighten her room up to help time go by faster. She had checked her email numerous times, and even chatted online with Meg and Raoul who seemed to have woken up in much worse shape than she had been in. Satisfied that everything was in its place, Christine grabbed her coat and walked out of the room.

It was a nice early autumn night. The moon was shining high above the campus and helped to light her way as Christine made her way up the brick pathway to the quad. There with its four faces shining brightly stood the campus clock. It was not especially tall or ornate, but it somehow seemed to fit right into the surrounding buildings. It was dark blue in color and stood on a decorative matching blue post which was then mounted on a large slab of carved marble. Most of the flowers in the round flowerbed that surrounded the base had died, so Christine walked over and sat on the base. The evening air started to penetrate her coat and the marble made a frigid surface to sit upon by the time the clock struck twelve. As the clock started to chime the hour, Christine started looking around. Just as she thought that she may have been stood up and the clock chimed a twelfth time, she turned and found herself face to face with the black-clad man. She startled slightly at his sudden arrival.

"I-I thought you might have stood me up," she stammered.

"Now what would put such thoughts into your head?" he said. "I said to meet me at midnight. It is now midnight and we both are here." Christine could barely make out his face due to the fedora's shadow, but she thought she saw a faint smile on his face. As usual, the mask stood out in stark contrast to the darkness of his face.

"That we are," she returned his smile and held out her hand. "I'm Christine Daaé."

"Erik," he said while taking her hand in his leather gloved one and holding it up to his lips. He then lowered it and looked up at her. "Please to make your acquaintance, Miss Daaé." She giggled in spite of herself at Erik's simple act of chivalry. Even though she had been slightly apprehensive about meeting him because of the information Raoul had given her, she found that most of her anxieties were gone. She shuddered as a cool breeze swept by. Almost faster than she could think, Erik had taken off his black cloak and draped it over her shoulders. "Here, come with me." He offered his arm. Christine hesitated for a second and then draped her arm through his. There was a calm, quiet authority on his voice that left her unable to resist whatever he commanded. They walked silently in the moonlight for a while when Christine heard Erik start to hum an unfamiliar tune. She looked up at him for a few steps. He stopped the melody and looked down at her.

"No, please don't stop," she whispered. "What song was that?"

"A piece I wrote a while ago," he replied.

"Can I hear it?" Erik looked at her curious eyes for a moment and then gently pulled her in a new direction. Before she knew it, they were standing in front of Farber Auditorium. Erik tried the door and found it to be locked.

"That's ok. I can hear it another time..." Christine was interrupted by a slight click and Erik opened the door. In his hand he held his dorm room key. "How did you do that?" she asked, eyes wide in amazement. Erik gazed down at her and gave a sly grin.

"I found out that if I put my room key halfway into the lock and work it slightly, it unlocks the auditorium doors." They stepped inside the pitch dark building. Erik let his eyes adjust to the darkness until he could see details of his surroundings before taking Christine's hand and led her into the main part of the auditorium. Even with the red exit lights shining, Christine was practically blind in the dark room. Erik led her surely down the aisle to the stage and told her to stay there while he turned on some lights.

A soft glow illuminated the stage and revealed a black concert piano sitting off to one side. Erik helped her onto the stage and removed the dust cover off the shiny instrument. Taking his fedora and gloves off and setting them neatly on the bench beside him, he gracefully sat down and caressed the keys for a moment. For the first time, Christine was able to study his face in dim light. His dark brown-black hair was slicked back neatly with gel. His dark blue-green eyes sparkled of wisdom beyond his years. Erik was probably about twenty three years old, but the visible part of his face was aged a few years older than that. He was handsome, Christine was sure of that, but she was curious about what he was hiding behind that white mask. It added a mysterious charm to Erik, The Phantom.

She pulled up a chair next to him and watched as he played several chords to warm up. He looked over to her without missing a chord and started on the tune she had heard earlier, letting his eyes close. His voice was smooth and almost hypnotic. Christine marveled at how it blended with the piano. Erik's was a voice like none she had ever known, so beautiful, so heavenly, and yet so filled with pain and sorrow. She could tell that he wasn't just singing the music. Erik _was_ the music.

_I walk a lonely road  
The only one I that have ever known  
Don't know were it goes  
But its home to me and I walk alone  
I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of broken dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk alone  
I walk alone, I walk alone  
I walk alone, I walk a..._

_My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
Till then I walk alone_

_I'm walking down the line  
That divides me somewhere in my mind  
On the border line of the edge  
And where I walk alone  
Read between the lines of what's  
Fucked up and every things all right  
Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive  
And I walk alone  
I walk alone, I walk alone  
I walk alone, I walk a..._

_My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
Till then I walk alone  
_(A.N. "Boulevard of Broken Dreams"- Green Day)_  
_

Erik was still after the last notes quieted down and then opened his eyes. He looked over to see tears running down Christine's face. He slid off of the bench and kneeled in front of her and started wiping her tears.

"Why are you crying, dear girl?" Christine flushed with embarrassment and looked away from Erik's concerned gaze.

"That was just so beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time," she choked on a sob. It reminds me of how lonely I once was. How lonely I still am." She stopped right there. She wasn't ready to tell Erik about her parents and the hell her life was after that tragic day long ago. To her relief, Erik only nodded and said, "Me too."

After sitting through several more instrumental selections, Erik declared it was time for Christine to go back to her room and sleep. She could have stayed right there in the empty auditorium and listened to the music forever. She made a comment stating as such.

"Forever is a long time," was Erik's reply. They walked back to Majestic Hall and Erik stopped at the entrance. He was not ready for Christine to know that he lived right next to her.

"Oh, I forgot to thank you for watching over me last night and the wonderful breakfast this morning. I loved the rose. It's my favorite flower," Christine said before she got so caught up in Erik's gaze that she would forget everything she meant to say. By now she was blushing horribly and was glad to be standing in the dark twilight.

"You're welcome, Christine. I just want to keep you safe." Before he could react, Christine held him in a firm embrace. She inhaled the sweet smell of his woodsy cologne. Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion set in that made her feel like she could fall asleep right there in his arms. He pulled back and held her at arm's length.

"Good night, Erik."

"Sleep well, my dear." She turned and walked up to the door and glance back over her shoulder as she walked inside. This had certainly been a magical night and not one she would ever forget. She had just met Erik and didn't know anything about him, yet she felt so safe and secure in his presence. It was a strange feeling, pleasant, but strange. Christine had very little time to think about it because she fell into a deep sleep as soon as she lay down on the bed.


	5. Rude Awakening

Chapter 5 Rude Awakening

_All of the world was quiet except for the sound of waves crashing upon the sand. Christine, in a white cotton sundress that was blowing in the light sea breeze, walked barefoot along the beach. She knelt to pick up an unusual shell then looked up. A black horse was galloping down the shoreline toward her. The horse stopped about ten feet in front of her. Its mane and forelock were long and fell softly against its head and neck. It pawed anxiously and tossed its head for a moment, but a low murmur from the rider quieted it down. Christine looked up at the figure astride and smiled. What she saw looking down at her was a familiar masked face with eyes the color of the waves. He took his right foot out of the stirrup, put the reins in his left hand, and offered his free hand. She smiled at him as she stepped up, gave the horse a gentle pat on the neck, and then placed her hand in his. She heard a faint banging off in the distance but ignored it. This moment was too special to let something ruin it. She placed her foot in the stirrup and was pulled aboard. _

_"Christine," he said._

_"Erik," she sighed and wrapped her arm securely around his waist._

_"Christine."_

_"Yeah?" she asked, resting her head against his back, breathing in his comforting scent. The banging seemed to be getting louder, but she tried to tune it out._

_"Christine, are you in there? Hello?"_

_"What the...!"_

Christine awoke with a start. She was back in her own bed.

"Christine!" came a voice from the door, followed by another series of bangs.

"Who is it?"

"Meg. Is everything alright in there?"

"Yeah, just a second," Christine untangled herself from her bed sheets and grabbed her bathrobe. She opened the door just as Meg raised her hand to knock yet again.

"Good morning sleepyhead," she said with a beaming smile that slowly faded as she looked Christine over. "Um, why are you still in you pajamas?" A blank look was all she got in return. "Did you forget? Our breakfast date?" She threw up her hands in exasperation and pushed past Christine into the room. "Christine, what's with you all of a sudden? You, Raoul, and I agreed that we were going to make Sundays our special breakfast date. You know, Belgian waffle day!"

"Oh yeah."

"Anyway, Raoul's gonna be here any minute. Let's get you dressed," Meg flew to Christine's closet and began to paw through it. After finding a suitable ensemble consisting of jeans and a lavender polo shirt, Meg turned toward the desk to allowed Christine to change, smoothing her jean skirt and baby blue paisley shirt. On the desk, there was a single red rose with a black ribbon tied in a bow. She picked it up and sniffed the sweet fragrance. She saw there was a similar rose in a glass bottle on the top shelf of the desk.

"Christine?" she asked, her back still turned. "What's with the roses?"

"What? You can turn around now," she blanched when Meg turned around holding a black bowed rose. "Where did you get that?"

Meg giggled, "I was just about to ask the same question. It was lying on your desk. Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Christine turned and pretended to look for her purse. "Ah, is there someone special now? Boyfriend perhaps?"

Christine blushed, remembering her dream and the emotions she had felt. It was far too early in their relationship to start thinking of Erik that way. "No, not really. He's just a guy I met. I-I really can't talk about it"

"I see how it is," Meg narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Christine, I'm your friend. You can tell me anything."

"I know and thank you. But it's new and I just don't want to make a big deal out of it yet."

"I understand," Meg relented, putting the rose back on the desk. "Wait until Raoul finds out!"

"NO!" Christine shouted in alarm, and then softened. "No, he doesn't need to know about it, not yet. Please, Meg. Please promise me that you won't say anything to Raoul."

"I just don't see..." Meg looked into her friend's brown pleading eyes. "Ok, I won't tell him." Christine smiled in relief and placed the rose in the vase with the first one. She then carefully placed behind several textbooks to shield it from view of the door. The last thing she needed was for Raoul to learn she was secretly meeting with The Phantom. A knock came at the door and Christine jumped.

"Hey, are you two almost ready?" Meg whipped the door open to reveal Raoul casually propped against the doorframe. He looked ready for the warm early-autumn day dressed in khaki pants, white t-shirt, brown shoes and a dark red button-down shirt worn casually open. "The entire campus is going to be awake and in line if we don't get there soon, and then we'll be having waffles for dinner instead." He flashed a brilliant white smile in Christine's direction. She involuntarily felt herself blush and grinned back.

"I'm ready."

"Ok, Mr. Impatient," Meg said, dragging Christine out of the room and pushing past Raoul. "Let's go!" The only thing the students could do was laugh.

"MEG!" Christine marveled as the petite blond girl came back to the table with her third Belgian waffle covered in strawberry sauce and a mound of whipped cream. "You do realize that's your THIRD, right?" She held up three fingers and pointed to the plate for emphasis. Meg just smiled and nodded as she used her fork to smear the toppings over the fresh waffle.

"I was hungry."

"Where do you put it all?" Christine stared at her plate in amazement. She only was able to half of her own waffle before reaching her limit.

"In my mouth, silly. Mmmm," Meg popped a large section in her mouth and grinned.

"Remind me never to get into a waffle-eating contest with Meg," Raoul said to Christine as he speared a piece of his second waffle and then pointed his waffle-laden fork at Meg, drizzling syrup across the table. He took the bite and smirked sheepishly. "Oops."

"HA! You've got that right! Don't challenge me, Raoul. You know you won't win," she leaned across the table and indicated the dripped syrup. "And you've made a mess. Good job."

"Quiet, you," Raoul narrowed his eyes at Meg.

"You know I'm right. Tell him, Christine." Christine sat in a daze and did not respond. "Christine? Hello, anybody home?" Meg waved her hand in front of the brunette's face.

"Huh?" she replied, snapping back to the present moment.

"Welcome back to Earth," Meg giggled.

"Yeah, where did you go?" Raoul inquired after swallowing his last mouthful. Christine looked at her plate and fought to keep the pink from showing on her face.

"Nowhere. I just zoned out for a bit."

"Sure..." Meg started sarcastically but stopped when Christine shot her a warning look. "Alright, I'm done. Let's get out of here."

As they rose and walked over to put their dishes away, Christine couldn't help but smile a little, remembering the dream from this morning. She had not visited the shore since she was little. Fond memories of her mother and father came flooding back before she could suppress them. They had built sand castles as tall as she had been at the age of six, gathered bags and bags of shells and sand-dollars, raced the waves coming up the shoreline, buried her father in the sand up to his shoulders...

Christine suddenly felt claustrophobic in the room and needed to get out. She bolted out of the door and into the sunshine. The warm rays penetrated her skin and comforted her a little bit. What she really needed at this point was to be held; not by Meg or Raoul, but by someone who seemed to understand her emptiness. She was startled by her thoughts, but who she wanted with her more than anyone was Erik. Not knowing where he lived or any way of contacting him, she hurried toward Majestic Hall so she could seek shelter in her room. Behind her, she could hear Raoul and Meg yelling at her to wait for them, but she couldn't tolerate being around those two with their perfect lives and living parents. No, she wanted to be alone.

Breathless from the climb up the stairs, she slammed and locked her door and then sat down on her bed, pulling her afghan quilt around herself. Her mother had made it for her and when she snuggled into it, she could almost feel her mother's arms wrapping around her, comforting her. She closed her eyes and finally calmed down. Her silent peace was interrupted by the ring of her telephone. She wiped her eyes and sniffled to clear her nose before she crossed the room and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she said in as normal of a voice as she could manage.

"Christine, you're there," came a familiar male voice from the receiver.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Come now, you couldn't have forgotten me already. We met last night remember?"

"Erik?"

"Affirmative, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay now...I think," she replied, sighing lightly.

"You think? Christine, it's me. I can tell that something has made you upset. What's wrong?" Erik's voice was filled with concern. Christine couldn't help but give a little smile. She had only just met Erik and yet he seemed to be her comfort.

"I can't talk about it, not right now."

"All right," He said hesitantly. "If you need someone to talk to, I will be there for you. Remember that, Christine. I will always be there for you. You have no reason to feel alone anymore."

"I know. Thank you, Erik. That means a lot to me."

"I know it does. Well, if you are sure you are okay, I'm off to work on a piece. Will we meet again this evening?"

"Absolutely!" Christine felt a tingle run up her spine at the thought of seeing Erik again. "Just let me know when and where. See you later, Erik."

"Have a good day, my dear," he replied. Christine noticed that he hung on the line for a few seconds just to make sure that she really was all right. After placing her phone back on its base on her desk, Christine looked up at the vase and roses hidden on the shelf. She brought the vase down and inhaled the sweet fragrance and smiled at the thought of her mysterious friend.


	6. Bailey's

Chapter 6 Bailey's

"Gosh, I can't believe it's Friday already. This week has flown by!" Meg said as she hurried to catch up with Christine. They both were returning to the dorm after their last classes on Friday.

"Hey, girls! Wait up!" Raoul called from behind them. They stopped and waited for him to jog up. He was clutching a bright orange paper in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Look what I found." He waved the orange paper until Meg snatched it.

"Let me see that. OH! Party in Mo-ville tonight!" she cried after studying the flier. "We have to go!" Mo-ville, short for Mortonville, was only fifteen minutes from Crawford College and was home to Morton University. The school was famous in the area for its active social-life. "How did you get this?" the blonde asked. "I thought invitations to these parties were hard to come by." It was true that many of the events worth attending were limited to a guest lists which only occasionally include people outside of the school. Many people went to some real dives before finally meeting the right people to get their names on the list.

"Oh, they are. I just happen to know a guy who owes me some favors. I had him put our names on the list. It should be a good time," Raoul answered with a smug grin.

"Yes! Count me it," Meg shouted, blue eyes sparkling as she squeezed Raoul in a tight bear hug. Her outburst caught the attention of several groups of students. She waved at them and then turned her attention back to her friends. "What about you, Christine?" The brunette looked back and forth between Meg and Raoul hesitantly.

"I don't think so," she finally said. Truthfully, she did not care to repeat last Friday's fiasco. If she got into trouble again, Erik would not be around to save her.

"WHAT! Do realize what kind of opportunity this is? I know people who would give their right arm to get into one of these parties!" Meg grabbed her, eyes wide in astonishment.

"I know, but I'm not up to going to a party tonight, and I have plans anyway."

"Of course you do, " Meg replied sarcastically. "It's not as if you've seen your mystery boyfriend enough this week..." Her voice trailed off as she realized what she had just said in front of Raoul. Christine turned a bright shade of crimson and glared at Meg. "Christine, I'm so sorry..."

"Wait, you have a boyfriend?" Raoul interrupted, trying to catch up on the conversation. "Who is it? I probably know him."

"It's n-nothing," Christine stammered.

"Oh come on, Christine. Tell me."

"NO! You two need to find something else to focus your lives upon and just mind your own business!" She turned and stormed off to Majestic Hall. True, she had spent several evenings with Erik this past week. They had taken a walk down to the park by Crawford Lake and spent some time in Farber Auditorium playing music. Tonight, they planned to stay in and have a movie night. Christine was surprised when Erik suggested the date, but found that he had a love of classic movies and some musicals. She just needed a few minutes by herself to cool off.

"What the hell just happened?" Raoul was bewildered watching Christine storm off. "I totally missed something."

"It's my fault, Raoul. She's been seeing this guy but she won't tell me who it is and she didn't want you to know about it. She gave me the whole 'it's new and I don't want to make a big deal out of it' speech, but I think there's more to it. I'm a little worried, Raoul."

"I'll ask around and see if anyone knows anything about it. Just try to keep an eye on her. There are dangerous people around and I would hate to see someone as innocent as Christine Daaé fall prey to one of them."

* * *

"I HATE HER!" Christine wailed later that evening. She was pacing the room as Erik gazed at the restless girl from his seat on her bed. "She promised she would keep the secret, but she betrayed me!" Concern flashed in his eyes and everything inside of him screamed to rush over and hold Christine tightly; to never let her go. Instead, he sighed and looked down at his black shoes, crossed at the ankles.

"Hate is a very powerful thing, Christine. I'm afraid that's how life is. Sometimes the people you think you can trust the most are the ones that let you down the hardest," he looked into Christine's beautiful crystal blue eyes which held hurt even in the dim light from her desk. "I wish I could tell you that I will never betray you, never hurt you, but I cannot. No one can. What I will swear to you is that I will do everything in my power to avoid it." She stared at him, startled for a brief second and then smiled. She gracefully sat beside him and took his left hand in both of hers.

"Thank you," she whispered. After what felt like an eternity of staring silently into the darkness of her room, Christine stood up and said, "How about that movie?" Erik regarded her careful for a moment.

"Wait here, I'll return in a moment."

"Um, ok..." Christine said to the now empty room, sitting down on the bed, perplexed at her friend's abrupt departure. "I'll just...wait here." In what seemed like no time, her door opened and Erik waltzed through carrying a tray with tea pot full of hot water, two mugs with spoons, and an amber pear-shaped bottle. He carefully set the tray on Christine's desk and poured the steaming water into the mugs which already contained a powder mixture. The scent of chocolate filled the air. He proceeded to open the bottle and measure several teaspoonfuls of the cream-colored liquid into mugs. With a stylish stir, he handed Christine a mug and picked up his own in salute.

"Cheers, to life constantly trying to keep up down, yet never succeeding." He clinked Christine's now upraised mug and watched as she took an experimental sip.

"Oh, it's hot, but this is delicious," Christine inhaled the scent of chocolate deeply. "What did you put in it?"

"Bailey's Irish Cream. This will almost always make me feel better."

"I can see why. This is really good!" Erik smiled slightly at the compliment.

"_Now_, how about that movie?" Christine smiled back as she popped the DVD into her laptop and then settled back into her place next to Erik. As the image of the MGM lion roared on the screen, all of the worried over her day seemed to disappear. She glanced over at Erik and smiled. How could anyone this warm and comforting have such a horrible reputation?_ "I guess people are afraid of some one who is different," _she answered herself back. _"They are afraid of what they don't understand."_ With that, she sighed and rested her head on Erik's broad shoulder, her mind at peace for a change.

* * *

"MEG! What do you mean we can't spy on her! She's our friend and she could be in danger!" Raoul shouted above the loud music. The party was everything they had hoped for, except for Christine's absence.

"Yes, she's our friend and she'll tell us who he is when she's ready," Meg looked down at her empty red plastic cup. "This is exactly why she made me swear not to tell you."

"She WHAT! Oh, this beats all!" He turned threw up his hands up in exasperation, forgetting his half-full cup that he held in his hand. Beer flew up in the air and soaked some girl's white shirt. She shrieked as several nearby guys threw their cups at her. Raoul grabbed Meg's arm and lead her out of the house just as chaos ensued.

"I wanted to tell you, Raoul. I really did," Meg pleaded on the sidewalk. _She doesn't trust me, _Raoul thought. _Christine doesn't trust me. _

"Raoul?" Meg saw the pained expression on Raoul's face. He looked at her and tried to hide it, but she had already seen all she needed to. A hint of a smile crossed her face. "You're interested in her, aren't you?" Raoul smirked and blushed a bit.

"HA! I KNEW it!" Raoul's hand flew up to cover her mouth. All Meg could do was giggle.

"I don't know exactly how I feel about her. Of course we're already friends but yes, I would like to get to know her better. NO, Meg. I don't want you playing matchmaker," He added in response to the gleam in her eyes.

"Ok, then," Meg said, trying to sound deflated but failing horribly. "All we need to do is find out who her mystery man is and then break them up for good!" Raoul looked at her uncertainly.

"I don't want to hurt her, Meg. If she really likes this guy she will be devastated. You know how delicate she is emotionally."

"Of course I know; in fact, I'm counting on it. She will be hurt. She will be devastated...and then she'll run straight into your arms. It's perfect!" Meg grinned evilly. She thought she had left her devious days back in high school, but this was to help an old friend. "MUAHAHA!" Raoul couldn't help but get caught up in her enthusiasm and joined in the laughter.


	7. Angel of Music

A.N_. I apologize for the lack of updating. I seem to have come down with a bad case of writer's block and I am slowly recovering. I am trying to put more Erik wit into the story as it goes along and have many ideas for later on. I just need to figure out how to get there in the meantime. And as is the plee from every fanfic autor: please review (good or bad, I don't mind) and thanks to those who already have._ :-D

* * *

Chapter 7 Angel of Music

"Class, I have an announcement to make," Madame Giry said loudly. "It has recently come to my attention that the Board has decided to cut the budget for the Vocal department drastically." A nervous murmur ran through the room. "Ahem! Thank you. What this means is that they are capping the size of each class year in the vocal major." The murmur grew louder as students chatted with their neighbors.

"Does this mean that just the freshman class next year will be smaller?" one girl asked. Madame Giry shook her head sadly.

"Unfortunately, no. Every year will be limited to twenty students making the grand total to be eighty Vocal majors attending this school at any given time. You make be..." she tried to continue but the room was in a near frenzied state. "Class, quiet down! Excuse me!" Finding that either attempt to regain their attention had failed, she raised her wooden cane- mostly for show- and struck the floor with it resulting in a thunderous crack and a silent room of students. "AS I WAS SAYING, you may be asking yourselves how they are going to choose who gets to stay in the program and who will have to seek their vocal education elsewhere. Part of it will be decided based upon class participation and scores. The larger part, however, will be decided during several of our performances over the academic year. You will each be evaluated in your roles by members of the Board, the President of the college, and members of the Vocal department."

Christine sat stunned. Here she was, halfway through the semester and could not have been happier. Her time at Crawford College had been the best couple of months she had spent since almost before she could remember. She had two great friends who never let her get herself down, and her mysterious confidant who always seemed to be there right when she needed him to be. Sometimes he just sat silently and let her vent her frustrations, and other times he gave her quiet words of wisdom. Life was looking so happy for her and now suddenly everything she had worked for could be taken away just because some high-up businessmen in their expensive suits sat around a table and decided that something like having more comfortable chairs in the executive offices was more important than an entire major. She knew that similar thoughts were running through the minds of those around her and she didn't even realize that Madame Giry had dismissed the class until the room was almost empty. Upon closer inspection, the room _was_ empty except for herself and Madame Giry who was gathering her things. Christine leaned down to collect her books and knocked her pen farther down the row. She sighed in frustration and dropped down on hands and knees, looking under the other chairs. Spotting the familiar pink top, she reached under and emerged victorious. She was about to sit up when she overheard Madame Giry speaking to someone.

"I know the situation looks dire but there is nothing that can be done about it," Madame Giry said solemly.

"Of course there is. I could..." a male voice replied ominously. It sounded familiar. Christine tried to place it.

"NO! Erik, please don't do anything rash," Madame Giry begged. _Erik! _Christine peeked over the chair and saw Madame Giry standing next to Erik who was leaning over the front table with his arms spread and head down. Outfitted in his usual black, Christine couldn't help but fell drawn to him. Something about the way he was standing there, something about his posture, just something about him in general...

"But we can't just stand back and do nothing. You know I respect your opinion as you have respected mine, but how can you stand by and watch these damn imbeciles tear apart the foundation of this institution? This program is the very reason this college is still in existence. You may not realize this, but Crawford College was at bankruptcy's doorstep when they changed this institution from a more technical school to that of fine arts and business. The Vocal program is this school's crowning gem and yet they seek to crush it."

Christine sat silent with only her eyes following him as Erik paced the front of the classroom during his tirade. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she found herself gasping for air. She suddenly felt the urge to sneeze and tried desperately to hold it in. _No, not now! Not now! Oh no..._ "Ahhh CHOOOO!" It seemed like such a small noise, but in the near empty and now-silent room, it echoed off of the walls. She peeked over the chair again to see Erik staring intently in her direction.

"Who is there? SHOW YOURSELF AT ONCE!" He bellowed and started up the aisle. Christine grabbed her books and stood hesitantly, keeping her eyes on the ground. She had not seen this side of Erik and she felt a chill run down her spine.

"It's just me, " she said in hushed embarrassment, daring to only give Erik a sideways glance. "I was chasing my pen."

"Christine?" he said in surprise, all anger melting away from his voice and face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Christine could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

"Erik, you know this girl?" Madame Giry asked when they approached her again. Her eyes darted nervously between the two.

"He rescued me one night at a party- well, _outside_ of a party," Christine explained, smiling at the shadow engulfed face next to her. Madame Giry merely raised an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving his.

"I see," was all she said.

"Getting back to the problem at hand, what can we do?" Erik asked suddenly as if snapped back to reality. Madame Giry paused in gathering her books and looked thoughtful.

"Well," she said at last. "We could begin by making sure that our most deserving students have the best shot at being one of the twenty...starting with you, Miss Daaé."

"What! Me?" Christine nearly dropped her books as she stared at the woman in disbelief. She knew she could sing better than the average person, but there was no possibility that she could ever be good enough to stay in the program.

"Yes, you," a smile crossed Madame Giry's face making it appear much younger. "You have the technique down fairly well and you are extremely talented. It is in your self-confidence where you are lacking. Once you get over that, you will be able to sing like an angel. I'm going to refer you to a friend of mine- a really genius when it comes to music- who can work miracles. I mean, he taught this old ballerina how to sing on key!" Christine couldn't believe her ears. Madame Giry was one of the best singers she knew and she was being completely humble in her talents. Just the fact that she was going to meet such a gifted person was enough to give her goosebumps.

"Who is this amazing man and where can I find him?" she asked breathlessly. The woman smirked and said simply,

"We call him the Angel of Music...and he's standing right next to you." Christine's mouth dropped as she wheeled around to face Erik.

"You!" she gaped. He removed his fedora and gave a chivalrous bow.

"Angel of Music, at your service," he said, standing up straight. He gave a faint grin at the shocked girl's expression. With a long, thing finger, he gently lifted Christine's refined chin to close her mouth. "Come now, we have much work to do."

"That's horrible!" Meg exclaimed later that day in the coffee shop. "How can they cut such an important program?"

"That seems to be the question of the century," Christine sighed and then sipped on her green tea. The honey soothed her scratchy throat after the grueling session she had with Erik/Angel of Music. "I am the Angel of Music and I shall be referred to in that manner," he had said when she mistakenly called him by his name during their lesson. He then demanded an apology when Christine started laughing at the silliness of it all. Angel of Musicwas so much longer to say than Erik, but he refused to be acknowledged as such. They finally came to a compromise by shortening his title to "Angel". It cost her several more rounds of scales and exercises which left her vocal cords strained and tender. She had been given strict orders to drink plenty of fluids and restrict her conversations to zero. At least she was doing well with one of them.

"That puts a lot of unneeded pressure on you guys for those performances," Raoul frowned over his espresso. "My father is on the Board, but he never mentioned anything about this. I think we need to have a little talk, right now," Raoul excused himself from the table and started to dial on his cell phone.

"Where did we find him?" Christine asked, smiling in admiration at his loyalty to help the situation.

"Psh, along the road somewhere," Meg joked. "So what is up with your new singing coach? By the sound of your voice right now, he must be pretty tough."

"He's certainly not easy. He's a demanding-controlling-perfectionist, but that's what makes him so great. I need someone like that to push me to be a better singer. If I'm not on stage with a solo during our performances, I'll have no hope of staying in the program."

"Christine, do I see that glassy look in your eyes?" Meg smirked. "Are you _interested_ in this 'Angel of Music' fellow?"

"Um..."

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS!" Christine and Meg were interrupted by Raoul's shouts. He glanced around and noticed that all eyes in the shop were on him. He grinned sheepishly and turned to face the wall, continuing to rant in a loud whisper.

"Did you see how tight he was holding that phone?" Meg asked, trying to stifle a giggle.

"He looks really mad," Christine agreed. "I guess Mr. Chagney voted in favor of the cut. If the look on Raoul's face is any indication, Thanksgiving dinner in the Chagney household will certainly be interesting."

"Indeed."


	8. The Past Revisited

Chapter 8 The Past Revisited

PrimaBallerina1: just do it! She's not gonna bite.

RC4Prez: I know, I know. But I'm still nervous. I mean, I really like her and I don't want to doanything to hurt our friendship. :-/

PrimaBallerina1: she digs you, Raoul, so get over yourself and ask her out already!

RC4Prez: Really?

PrimaBallerina1: duh! She all but told me the other day. Besides, it's just one date!

RC4Prez: lol, ok, you win. I'll go down there and ask her now.

PrimaBallerina1: I always win ;-) Good luck, ttyl

RC4Prez: thanx, bye

Raoul logged off of his computer and sighed. He had never felt this apprehensive about asking a girl on a date ever before. Maybe it was because he already seemed to have a connection with Christine, like they had met before somewhere. He was about to get up from his desk when one of his old photo albums caught his eye. It was odd because he had brought it and others with him to school every year, but never took the time to look through them. He pulled the dark blue volume off of the shelf and dusted it off. Turning his desk lamp so he could see better, Raoul opened up the album and childhood memories came rushing back. There was his very first picture taken. There was a picture a few pages later with him standing in diapers with a bowl of pudding on his head. The brown mess was dripping down his face and chest, and he could see his mother standing in the background not looking very amused. His first Christmas, his first bike, his first time in the swimming pool; all of the pictures were there. Flipping through and lost in thought, he spotted a picture taken at one for his family's big corporate summer picnics which his father hosted on their estate every July. These were always boring because there were never people his own age to hang out with, Raoul recollected, except for that one year. He was nine years old that year and his father hired a live band for the entertainment. The lead singer of the band and her husband, one of the back up musicians, brought their little girl along. She was a few years younger than Raoul, but since they were the only children there, they hit it off right away.

_"Hi, I'm Ray," _he told the girl, extending his hand Raoul couldn't pronounce his name when he was younger so he just called himself Ray.

_"Chrissy, but my daddy calls me Lotte," _she said shyly, trying to hide her face with her dark brown ringlets, and timidly shook his hand.

_"Come on, Lotte, I'll show you around." _Raoul spent the afternoon showing the little brown-haired girl around the estate; where the best place to hide was, which tree was the best to climb, where he saw his first fawn while walking in the woods with his nanny. After the meal, Raoul's mother gave the kids each a kite to play with. Gleefully, they ran out into the large field away from the festivities, and raced to see who could get their kite flying first. Raoul got his airborne and looked over to see Lotte's progress. The poor girl had managed to tangle the string around legs and when she tried to run, she tripped face first into the grass. Raoul saw her crystal blue eyes start to tear and helped her up. She brushed herself off and looked dismayed at the grass stains that ran down the front of her pale blue dress. He handed her his kite which was floating in the air, and launched hers. They then switched back and proceeded to see whose would go higher. Raoul's sailed to the full length of his string. Not to be outdone in this contest, Lotte let her bright yellow kite go higher and higher. "_Careful, Lotte. You'll be running out of string soon so don't let it fly away."_ She just nodded and continued to let more and more sting out. Suddenly, a strong breeze picked up and sucked the string out of her hands. _"OH, NO!"_ She cried in horror as her kite sailed away. Raoul managed to pull his safely to the ground and watched as the girl tried in vain to chase the sting across the field. He ran after her and found her standing in the woods crying. He asked her what was wrong and she merely sniffed and pointed up. There, in the top of one of the tallest trees on the property, was Lotte's kite. He looked at her sweet, tear-stained face and knew what he had to do. He gave Lotte's shoulders a squeeze and started climbing the tree. He was quite a skilled climber, but had never gone that high before. The wind picked up again and swayed the treetops as Raoul clung on and climbed upward. Realizing that the string was too tangled in the branches to be salvaged, he climbed higher up to where the kite was wedged and took out his small pocket knife to sever the string. Loosening the kite was easy once the string was cut, but Raoul failed to plan how exactly he was going to get back down while holding onto it. The branches were too thick to merely drop it to the ground, so he slowly began to make his way down, one-handed. When one arm got tired, he switched the kite to the other hand and continued downward. He was about fifteen feet up yet when he stepped on a dead limb. It cracked under his weight and because he was only holding on with one hand, he dropped out of the tree with a thud.

Lotte screamed and ran over to him. She careful supported him in a sitting position and waited for him to catch his breath. _"Ray, are you ok?"_ she asked. He looked up at the worried face and gave a small smile, _"I got your kite back." _He looked down at the yellow object still in his hand, and to his dismay, it had gotten broken in the fall. _"But I think I broke it."_ She removed the kite from his hands and hugged him from behind. _"I don't care about that as long as you are safe. That was very brave...my hero!" _With the adrenaline from the incident wearing off, Raoul quickly realized that he was not alright. His left wrist was beginning to swell and sharp pains started to radiate up his arm. He winced and with Lotte's help, stood up, supporting his left wrist with his other hand. It was at the moment they reached the tent that they were escorted over to get a group picture taken. This was the picture that Raoul, thirteen years later, was staring at in his dorm room.

His wrist was indeed broken and after a trip to the hospital for a cast, he came home to find Lotte waiting for him on the couch in the living room. She had refused to leave until she knew Raoul would really be ok. For the next two years, the Chagney family hired Mr. and Mrs. Daaé for their parties and Lotte always came along. During the second year, it rained so much that the party had to be moved inside. Lotte and Raoul escaped to the attic where they read stories to each other by candlelight with the sound of rain lightly drumming on the roof. She gave him a tender innocent kiss good-bye saying that she loved him and promised to see him again the next year. That was the last time he ever saw his Little Lotte. The picnics continued, but the Daaé family never came back. Raoul asked his parents the reason several times but they just gave vague answers or brushed off the question entirely.

_Daaé? Chrissy? _Raoul thought to himself. Could Christine be his long-lost Little Lotte? It certainly looked like her in the photograph, and the similarities between the two were too close and numerous to be a mere coincidence. This definitely put everything in a new light. Raoul grabbed the picture from the album, grabbed his keys, and left the room on a mission.

An hour later, he lightly knocked on Christine's door, hoping she was there. She opened it up expecting to see Erik, but instead she saw her handsome friend Raoul standing with one hand behind his back and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"May I come in, Little Lotte?" he asked. Christine nodded and let him in. After a second, she closed the door and froze.

"Wait! What did you just call me!"

Raoul grinned harder and brought his hand out from behind his back revealing a folded yellow kite. Christine stared at it with disbelief. "Little Lotte, I brought you a kite, and it's not broken!" he said beaming.

"Oh my God! Ray? Little Ray who fell out of that tree?"

"One in the same."

Christine took the kite from his hands and placed it on the bed. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "I can't believe it! I thought I'd never see you again. I missed you so much!" She felt a stray tear of happiness run down her cheek. Raoul reached up and brushed it away with his hand and pushed a stray piece of hair off of her face.

"Me too," he whispered in her ear. "Do you remember the last picnic we were together?"

"Yes," she replied with a smile. "We had our picnic in the attic...

"...reading to each other..."

"...those dark stories from Northern Europe..."

"...by candlelight with sounds of the storm above us."

"It was so romantic," Christine sighed. "We were just children then, but I knew I loved you from the moment you risked you life to rescue my kite from the enormous tree."

"You called me a hero."

"Yes, you always were and always will be my hero," she said before bringing her face close to his. He leaned down and they gently kissed. When she pulled back, Raoul saw her eyes sparkling as she smiled up at him.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" Christine reached up and quickly kissed him again. _I'll take that as a yes,_ Raoul thought and embraced her, smiling.

* * *

Erik stood inside his closet gazing at Christine as she laid across her bed, deeply engrossed in a novel. It was hard playing double-duty—pushing her to her limits and being strict as her singing coach, but also wanting to spend every moment with her in his arms as her boyfriend or better yet, husband. What Erik wanted most in life wasn't necessarily to be completely accepted by the public (which was far from possible) or even to be rewarded for his talents. No, what he wanted most in the world was to be loved for who he was by a wonderful wife with whom he could share his music, his love, and his life. From the moment he first saw her outside his window, he knew the Christine was that special woman; her innocence and fragileness made her the perfect person.

There was a knock at the door and Erik struggled to see who was there without being seen himself. He heard a familiar voice and suddenly saw Christine smile and launch herself into the arms of some guy. Erik fumed when he recognized the boy as Raoul Chagney. The boy seemed perfect in every way, but Erik knew better. Behind the goodie-goodie, all-American boy façade there must be some dark terrible secrets. He was human afterall, and Erik was bound to find out what those secrets were and use them to his advantage. It took all of his willpower to keep from launching himself through the glass and wrapping his hands around the boy's neck as Raoul and Christine moved in for a romantic kiss. _It's so easy for him,_ thought Erik. _He doesn't have this awful face as a formidable obstacle. He could have any girl that he wanted, but no. He has to go and take Christine away from me. Well, enjoy her company now, Changey. She won't want to be anywhere near you when I get through with you! _


	9. The Past Revisited, part II

_Author's Note: I apologize again for the lack of updating...hopefully life will slow down enough to continue this story as the best parts are yet to come. Special thanks to all who have reviewed thus far. You are all ever encouraging._

_CynicallyAmused: unfortunately, this isn't a Raoul Haters United type of fic. He is a very important character to the story. What I can offer you is there will definitely be some jokes and insults at his expense._

_Wandering-Phantom: Thanks for the enouragement. The fic is going to loosely follow the original story, but there will be plenty of E/C interaction and possibly fluff._

_Kat097: I called the paramedics and I hope they get there in time. _

_I Love Gerry: I love that song too and can totally imagine a nice piano version sung with the romantic haunting voice of our Phantom. I ended up taking out the online chatting and turned it into a phone conversation because IMing seemed way too OoC, even for this story._

_DC Luder: Yay! Another person who will get some of the inside jokes dealing with the Caz crew. Kids, this is the "Raoul" of our little PotO role-play group. Please note that some of the bickering and places are from college experience...most of the characters actions are made up in my mind, so Deena, don't get insulted._

_StarlightAngel: Thank you! I have read way too many fics in a modern setting where Erik is just an outcast, Christine is just an orphan, and little else. I'm trying to generally follow the storyline without rewriting it exactly in a modern setting as well as adding some modern-day humor. It is quite difficult, I will admit._

_La Romantique Perdue: Thanks for the encouragement. It is interesting that you picked up on the off-side mounting. While I do realize that it is traditional and proper in a formal setting to mount from the left side, off-side work is just as important. All of my young horses are taught to be mounted from either side and infact, more work is done on the off-side since many people tend to work primarily on the near-side. I also find that mounting and dimounting both sides reduces the stretch and wear of stirrup leathers. Why, you may ask, did I open this door of controversy?  
It is all a matter of symbolism. When mounting from the right side of the horse, probably one of the first things Christine would notice about Erik is the mask. The mask symbolizes the mystery that surrounds Erik which is the primary cause of Christine's facination with him. It was his aire of mystery that first attracted her._

_L.M. Colburn: You know you rock! As the "Erik" of our group, she gives me insight into the mind of our wonderful masked man. Thanks for being a kick-ass beta. I hope to inundate you with chapters soon...we'll see._

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Chapter 9 The Past Revisited, part 2

At 6pm sharp, Christine was waiting at the steps of Majestic Hall. Raoul told her to meet him there but there was no sign of him. Christine looked down at her dress yet again to make sure everything was in place. She finally settled a black knee-length dress that was short sleeved, and gathered on one side to make it look almost like a wrap dress. It was something she had bought a long time ago, but never had the occasion to wear it. While the v-neck dropped a little farther than she would have preferred, she liked the way it made her look and feel. This was her little black dress. Meg had helped her pull her brunette curls off of her face and pinned them in a pretty crown on top of her head. Christine felt like a princess going off on some royal engagement. The question was where was Prince Charming? She heard a car approaching and saw Raoul pull up with his silver convertible. He took off his sunglasses and stepped out to open the passenger door for his date. One look at Christine and he couldn't hide his surprise. She looked like a movie star! Christine smiled at his wide-eyed expression and reached for his hand.

"You look absolutely incredible," Raoul said, taking her hand and opening the door. She beamed and replied, "So do you." Raoul's Frost Blue button-down shirt, black slacks and black tie made him seem older and even more handsome. _As if that was possible,_ she thought. He slid into the driver's seat, started the car, and reached to put the top up. Christine stopped his hand.

"Please, could we leave it down? I've never ridden in a convertible before," she asked, blushing. Raoul flashed her one of his perfect blinding smiles and took her hand in his as they pulled away from the curb. A few minutes later, Christine was wishing that she had let him put the top up because she could feel the wind tearing at the curls on her head. She was about to say something about it when Raoul pull up the side windows. Immediately the fierce wind stopped and she could feel a gentle breeze upon her face.

"I figured I'd let you have a real taste of open air before I closed the windows," Raoul said, glancing out the corner of his eye. "This is the real way to drive a convertible." Christine laughed and in what seemed like only a minute, they stopped in front of the _Brewster Inn_, one of the most elegant and upscale fine-dining establishments in the area. The valet parked Raoul's BMW as Christine stared at the building. It looked like a brick castle located at the edge of Crawford Lake. It was breathtaking and she never dreamed she would ever go to a place like this. Raoul broke her trance by offering his arm and escorted her inside.

Christine gazed at Raoul's candlelit face across the table and was astounded at the way his blue shirt made his eyes glow bright in the dim light. She had finished her delectable shrimp and lobster scampi and had her fill of delicious fluffy popovers with honey-butter. It was a meal fit for royalty and here she was, a poor orphan, not only partaking in said meal but also in the company of arguably one of America's most eligible bachelors! Raoul caught her staring at him and smiled. He grabbed his champagne glass which was filled with sparkling apple-grape juice and raised to Christine in a toast.

"To us and hopefully the start of something wonderful." She smiled back at him and brought her glass to his before finishing her last swallow. She loved the tickling feeling she got on her tongue. They ordered their dessert, New York Cheesecake with strawberries and chocolate sauce, to go and drove down to a secluded spot on the shore of the lake. Raoul grabbed a blanket out of his trunk and spread it out on the damp grass. Together in the moonlight, they ate their desserts and talked about how much life had changed since they last met.

"So what happened to your parents?" Raoul finally asked the question that they had been dancing around. "I knew something was wrong when you stopped coming to our picnics."

He almost immediately regretted it when he saw Christine's eyes swell up with tears. He held her close. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No," she sniffled and straightened up. "I should have talked about it sooner with you. You deserve to know the whole tragic story." Raoul waited silently as she took a deep breath and regained her composure.

"It was a normal evening like any other, " she began. "A normal Friday night...Dad had made plans for him and Mom to out to celebrate their wedding anniversary. I was left at home with Wendy, an older girl from down the street. We had fun together; watching movies, eating popcorn and ice cream at the same time, painting fingernails—you know, girl stuff. Anyway, I was just about ready to go to sleep when the phone rang. I walked out into the hall just in time to see Wendy drop the receiver and cover her mouth. She was crying but told me to get dressed because we were going out. I didn't know where until we were almost at the hospital. I remember the sound of the windshield wipers, the pounding rain on the car, the night being so black that it seemed to absorb the headlights. We pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and Wendy finally turned to me. 'There has been an accident, Chrissy. Your mom and dad were hurt so we are going to see them.' She was trying so hard to put on a strong front for me, but I could see right through it. 'You have to be brave, sweetie. Can you do that? Can you be brave for me and your parents?' I nodded that I could but as soon as I stepped into the bright lights of the hospital, all I wanted to do was run and hide. I remember having a sense of dread when we arrived on the floor of the I.C.U. A doctor met Wendy and I at the door and said that my parents had been involved in a car accident." Christine's face grew hot as she remembered the exact cause of her parents' deaths. It was a drunk driver that sped through a stoplight. The impact spun the car into a large light pole. "Mom was pronounced dead at the scene. I never got a chance to say good-bye to her!" She dropped her head into her hands and began to sob. Raoul held her closely and stoked her brunette hair away from her face.

"Shh, shh," he whispered, rubbing her back with his other hand. After a few minutes, she calmed down and began again with a cracked voice.

"Dad was in critical condition. They weren't going to let me, a ten year old, in the I.C.U. but Dad had woken up and was calling for me. He knew he was going to die; I could see it in his eyes when I entered the room and he called me close. There were bandages and tubes all over him and machines were beeping non-stop, but I tuned them out. All I cared about was that my Daddy was there so everything had to be okay. 'Daddy's going to be going to Heaven to meet Mommy soon, Chrissy. I love you more than you know and I'm so sorry that I have to leave you alone.' 'No, Daddy, don't go! I'm scared to be alone!' I wailed. 'But you won't be alone, my dear girl. When I get to Heaven, I will send a guardian angel—an Angel of Music—to watch over you and guide you.' I could tell that he was fading and as desperately as I prayed in those moments, I could not bring him back. 'Never loose faith in that, Christine, and always remember that Mom and I will be watching over you forever. I love you and you make me so very proud.' That was the last thing he said. His eyes closed and his breathing stopped. The machines and alarms were deafening, but I don't remember much after that. Everything else is just a blur."

She fell silent. There were no sobs, just a few sniffles and a remaining tear. It was like Christine had left this time and place, and traveled off to a distant land in her imagination where her parents were still alive and she was that carefree sprite of a girl she once was. Raoul yearned to say something but upon searching his mind for the right words, he found none, so they sat there on the blanket under a star-filled sky and listened to the sounds of the nighttime for what seemed like an eternity. Christine relaxed as Raoul absentmindedly rubbed her back. He noticed her stifle a yawn and check his watch. _1am! I guess we had better be heading back._ Raoul slowly stood up, offering his hand to Christine. Together, they folded up the blanket and placed in the trunk of the car.

As Christine waited for Raoul to open the door, she thought she heard a faint rustling in the nearby tree line. She felt a shiver creep up her spine and turned her head to get a better look, but saw nothing but darkness and the rustling stopped. _ Stop it, Christine!_ She scolded herself. _It's just the wind._ She stepped into the car and they made their way back to campus.

* * *

**READER'S POLL: What kind of car would Erik drive? I know it has to be black, but as far as type or model, etc, I'm drawing a blank.**  



	10. Magic Mirror

Chapter 10 Magic Mirror

Erik ignored the numbness that was creeping up his legs and carefully repositioned himself on the tree branch. Below him, his dear Christine was reliving her painful past. Raoul reached out to comfort her at a difficult moment and had Christine not been sitting directly under him, Erik would have dropped out of the dark tree and pounced on the boy. He held back a growl and gripped the branch so tight he could feel the bark ripping into his hands. A fierce wave of jealously washed over him like scalding water, but he bit back the violent urge and continued to listen.

He had followed them to the restaurant and waited outside until they left for Crawford Lake. While the love-struck couple was busy gathering a blanket and treating themselves to dessert, Erik quietly shinnied up this tree to get a perfect view of the proceedings. If that youth made any attempt to violate Christine in any way, Erik swore that the boy would never be seen again. Much to his disappointment, Raoul behaved like a perfect gentleman throughout the evening.

"_...Angel of Music..._" Erik smiled to himself. It was only a matter of time before his beautiful angel made the connection between her father's final words and the title Erik had given himself. He had heard her muttering it in her sleep and decided that he could use the information to his advantage; however, it surprised him that she had yet to make the connect. All in due time, she would realize it all in due time. When she did, Christine would forever be his. Erik smiled at the thought, imagining her in his arms—not as a friend—as a lover and wife.

Lost in the bowels of his imagination, Erik nearly missed the couple's departure toward Raoul's car. He started to climb out of his tree when he heard a rustle from nearby. He froze as Christine looked in his direction, but the noise stopped and she stepped into the car. Erik let out the breath he had been holding and quickly slipped down the tree, landing noiselessly on the ground below. He began walking to the road when another rustling stopped him in his tracks. He stared into the darkness trying to make out a dark object he thought he saw moving. Slinking through the wooded area as quietly and as quickly as possible, Erik caught a glimpse of a black-clad figure exiting the tree line. By the time he could get a clear view, the mysterious figure had already gotten in a vehicle and pulled away, leaving Erik in darkness except for retreating red taillights.

_Now that's peculiar_, Erik thought to himself. _It seems as if I'm not the only Phantom lurking around._

Erik traveled cross-country back to campus, entered Majestic Hall by his secret entrance behind the large generator unit, and arrived in his room just in time to hear Raoul say goodnight and saunter down the hallway. Erik was losing patience with Christine for her not recognizing him has the "Angel of Music" her father had promised her. The dark walk back to campus gave him time to contemplate the situation and he decided that there was no harm in nudging her in the right direction. All he had to do was wait until Christine was sure to be sound asleep. Until then, Erik grabbed a piece of charcoal and busied himself by making several drawings of his beloved angel in his sketchbook.

In about an hour, Erik found himself surrounded by Christine. There was a sketch of her kneeling on the blanket beside Crawford Lake on a sunny spring day, dressed in a Victorian gown with the skirts pooled elegantly around her. Her eyes were closed in contentment as she held a rose up to inhale its sweet fragrance. Another was of her leaning against a concert piano in casual clothes during one of her lessons. Her reflection showed in the polished surface of the instrument and her mouth was open as she was singing. Erik purposely left the pianist in shadows. His favorite, however, was a simple portrait of Christine with her hair swept up with fake flowers. She appeared to stare directly at the viewer with large expressive eyes and a delicate smile. This was the image that was burned into Erik's memory that day he saw her through the mirror. That was the day Erik fell desperately in love with Miss Christine Daaé. That was the day his obsession ceased being a pursuit of power and glory for himself; instead, it had become a quest to gain the love of another with whom he could share his gifts and passion. That was the day...

Erik's thoughts were interrupted by the soft chiming of an antique clock resting upon his dresser. Its shimmering mother-of-pearl face and ebony inlaid Roman numerals stood in beautiful contrast to its dark mahogany base. This was one of very few cherished items he was in possession of from his childhood home. The clock was one of his first projects and even though he was quite young when he restored the broken and neglected relic to its former glory, Erik was to this day proud of the workmanship it exhibited.

_3 am,_ it read. Erik carefully gathered his drawing supplies, placed his newest creations into a protective folder, and tucked them neatly away. It was time to give Christine the push she needed. Dressed in his most formal attire: tuxedo pants, white cravat and shirt, maroon brocade vest, tailcoat, and white gloves; Erik turned out his lights, shrouding the room in darkness, and opened his closet. Christine was indeed settled in a deep slumber so Erik began to work his magic and theatrics. Carefully throwing his voice into the room, Erik began to sing in a whispered smooth hypnotic tone.

"_Christine, Christine. I am your Angel of Music...I am your Angel of Music...Christine, Christine. Come to your Angel of Music...Have you forgotten your Angel of Music?... _"

* * *

_This has been quite the magical evening indeed_, Christine thought as she ran a comb through her brunette ringlets. She was emotionally exhausted, yet strangely content with herself. Finding out that Raoul was her long-lost childhood sweetheart who still had feelings for her even after all this time, and going on a wonderful date both felt like a dream come true. While reliving her painful past was not on her list of joyful activities, just sharing it with someone who truly cared about her—not as a patient, but as a dear friend—lifted a great weight off of her shoulders and mind. She now had someone she could talk candidly to.

_But didn't I do that with Erik? _She thought about it a moment. While she felt like she could tell Erik anything, the fact that he had disclosed so little about himself and his past to her made Christine hesitant to open up to him. She sighed, turned out her light, and crept under her warm fluffy comforter. Within moments, the weary girl drifted off in pleasant slumber.

"_Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made for you!" A young Christine in a pink snowsuit and boots ran up to he father and pulled on the sleeve of his heavy winter coat. He turned and looked in the direction she was frantically pointing to. There in the snow, lay a perfect snow angel. She beamed as her father walked over for closer inspection. Gustav Daaé moved closer to its head while taking great care not to disturb his daughter's masterpiece, took off his woolen mitten, and began to draw in the crisp white snow. _

_"There, now that's better, Little Lotte," he said after a few minutes. Christine circled the creation with a critical eye. The man stood up and smiled at the confused look on his young daughter's face. _

_"What's that?" she asked._

_"Those," he gestured toward his drawings. "are music notes. That is who people know how to play and instrument or sing a song. Music notes are like the alphabet only when put them together, you will have a song instead of a story." She stared at them, still confused._

_"Why did you draw them next to my angel?" Gustav smiled and shook his head._

_"Have you forgotten the story of the Angel of Music? This angel here is so perfect it must be the Angel of Music who comes to everyone destined to be a great musician," He reached down and embraced his little girl. "One day, Little Lotte, the Angel of Music will come to you. The Angel of Music will help you sing like a real angel in Heaven."_

_Older Christine was a spectator to the scene. She tried to call out to her father, but no sound came out. The two paid no attention to her as if she was a ghost. Suddenly, Christine was no long standing in the snow. She heard familiar beeps and took in her new surroundings. _

_"_No, oh no. Not this. Please not this,_" she silently pleaded. She knew this scene all too well and had relived it too many times to count in the months and years after her parents' tragic accident. She was standing in a hospital hallway. Nurses were busily rushing around checking on patients and pages were being announced constantly over the speaker system. The glare from the fluorescent lights forced Christine to squint her eyes. She suddenly saw a familiar young girl—her younger self—being escorted into a nearby room by Wendy. She knew the rest of this story and tried desperately to not follow them into that room. Try as she might, she involuntarily appeared at the doorway and walked over to her dying father. She could hear him whisper those final words to her._

_"When I get to Heaven, I will send a guardian angel—an Angel of Music—to watch over you and guide you. Never forget your Angel of Music, Little Lotte. Never forget..." The room started to go black and the scene vanished. Soon, Christine stood alone in total darkness._

_"Wake up," she urged herself, closing her eyes. "Just wake up. This is just a dream. Come on, Christine, wake up!" She opened her eyes expecting to see the familiar inside of her dorm room. Instead, she found herself standing in a mist-covered grave yard. She shivered in the cool damp air and perceived tombstones and statues surrounding her. She looked to her right and saw a weathered statue of a perfectly beautiful angel, except that its wings had broken off and lay in pieces on the ground below. Christine felt a pang of sadness for that angel, for what is an angel without wings? It is nothing but a man or a woman. She surveyed the damage to see if it was possible to fix when she heard a haunting voice calling her name._

_"_Christine..._" it called. "_Christine..._" She turned and slowly followed the voice until she arrived at a familiar looking tomb. She gazed up the stone staircase, and above the ornate stone carving entrance stood the letters she dreaded to see: D A A É. This was her parents' tomb. She collapsed in despair at the base of the steps and stared at the name with tears running down her cheeks._

_"_Christine..._" the voice called again. This time, it sounded like it was coming from inside the tomb. A lantern inside the locked gates illuminated the entrance and the gates swung open._

_This is impossible, Christine thought in disbelief. Even so, the voice continued on, and began to sound more and more like that of her father's._

_"_Christine, my angel, you have forgotten me._"_

_"No, Daddy, I haven't forgotten you!" she pleaded and shook her head. "How could I when I miss you so much?"_

_"_Christine, have you forgotten your Angel of Music?_"_

_"What?"_

_"_You have forgotten my promise to send the Angel of Music to you, and so you have forgotten me._"_

_"No, I have not forgotten the Angel of Music! You just haven't sent it to me yet. I have not forgotten about you either!" She felt hot tears running down her face. _

_"_Ah, but I have, my child. You have met the Angel of Music. I have sent him to you._" Christine meditated on this information for a minute and then the realization dawned on her._

_"ERIK! Erik is my Angel of Music!" She asked herself how she could not have realized it earlier._

_"_Trust in your Angel of Music, darling. He will make you sing like an angel yourself, but you must obey him. If you don't, he will never return to you._"_

_"Oh, I will, Daddy. I promise I will!"_

_"_I love you, Christine. You make me very proud..._" The voice started to fade as did the cemetery. Christine looked around in desperation for her father, but everything quickly turned black yet again. From the darkness, the melodious voice faintly returned. _

_"_I am your Angel of Music...Come to the Angel of Music..."

Christine sat bolt upright in bed, shaking. Of all the dreams and nightmares she had experienced over the years, this was by far the most detailed and realistic. She brushed her hair off of her tear-streaked face and tried to get her bearings. _It was only a dream,_ she told herself. _It was only a dream._ She was about to lay back down when she the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her heart beat faster.

"_Christine..."_

No, she had to have made it up. Was she still sleeping? Christine pinched her arm. No, she was definitely awake, but was her mind just playing trick on her in the darkness?

_"Christine...I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of Music..." _The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Christine jumped out of bed and looked around her dark room, senses on high alert. She tried to turn on the lights, but found that the power had been cut.

"Angel of Music, speak again. I hear you," she pleaded. "Please, show yourself."

"_Dear sweet child you know me. Look at your face in the mirror..." _Christine did as she was told and stared at her faint reflection in her mirror. After seeing nothing except herself for a moment, the image began to change.

"_I am there inside." _Suddenly light illuminated a white mask in the mirror. Christine quickly glanced behind her expecting to see Erik, but she was standing alone. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at the mirror. She could no longer see her reflection but what shocked her most was the moment a white gloved hand reached _through_ the mirror.

"_I am your Angel of Music. Come to the Angel of Music."_ His voice was hypnotic and without even thinking, Christine placed her hand in his, her eyes never leaving his, and was gently pulled through her full-length mirror.

Erik smiled to himself as he guided his entranced beauty into the darkness of his closet and through a hidden door on the left hand wall. Picking up a lantern he had set just inside, he led her down his secret staircase that ran along the side of the building. Down they went into the basement of Majestic Hall. From there, Erik triggered another switch and the wall opened up, revealing a hidden tunnel. He led Christine through the damp darkness which seemed to swallow the dim light of the lantern. He noticed her shiver slightly in her nightshirt and shorts. Cursing himself for neglecting to take the cool temperatures into consideration, Erik picked up the pace and flew with his angel through the underground labyrinth. He came back to the stairs and climbed up two flights before opening another secret door and finally reaching his desired destination, allowed them to rest.

He left the lantern in the hallway which plunged the dimly lit room into complete darkness. Even Erik, who was able to see in the dark better than most people, was virtually blind, but it didn't matter. He knew this room inside and out and surely guided Christine over to a plush chair. Christine felt a soft warm blanket draped over her shoulders and snuggled into it appreciatively.

He walked over to the wall and lit the mounted candle, and proceeded to make his way around the room until it glowed with candlelight.

Christine squinted her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the light. When she was able to see clearly again, the sight took her breath away. The room was lavish with black and red curtains, blankets, pillows, and ornate old-style decorations. All of the furniture was of deep mahogany finish. She looked at the black blanket nestled around her: cashmere. The light reflected off many polished surfaces, including a small black upright piano in the left corner. Sheet music was scattered on every available surface and some even found its way to the floor. A familiar shape showed through it's covering (a keyboard perhaps?) and several instrument cases were tucked neatly in an alcove of the room.

Christine's gaze finally fell on Erik who was standing to her left, watching her intently as she took in her surroundings. This was the first time she seen him in the light since she left her room and was astounded by his formal appearance. He was tall, dark, handsome, charming, mysterious, and intense...very intense. Just the sight of him tonight seemed to put Christine under a provocative spell. She wanted Erik, she needed Erik...

"Christine, my dear," Erik spoke, breaking the spell. "You will be sleeping here tonight." He gestured toward a luxurious couch directly across from the chair Christine had settled in. She nodded and sunk into its plush surface and immediately drifted off to sleep.

"All of your questions will be answered in the morning," Erik whispered to his exhausted angel. He tucked an extra blanket on the couch and extinguished most of the candles. Erik then gently kissed her forehead and left the room to make his way upstairs to his own bedroom.


	11. Not A Dream

Chapter 11 Not a Dream

Christine lay in the warm softness of her bed half awake and listened to the soft piano music that was playing somewhere. Her eyes were still closed and she was not aware of whether this was real or a dream. She had a strange dream: one of those double-dreams that you seem to wake up during but it is still a dream. She vaguely remembered walking up to her mirror and then stepping through it to meet Erik who led her down stairs and through seemingly endless corridors. She snuggled deeper into the soft velvet blanket she had wrapped up in and smiled contentedly at the dream. Erik had been incredibly charming and intoxicating with his presence and voice.

As she began to wake up, the piano music became louder until she realized with a start that it was not part of a dream. Someone was really playing a piano in her room! Christine's blue-gray eyes flew open and she sat up, black velvet blankets sliding down to her waist. Her sight adjusted and she suddenly found herself in a strange room; one that she had never been in, except in her dream. _But I walked through a mirror, and Erik was on the other side...it HAD to be a dream, right? _

Erik heard the rustle of blankets behind him and stopped his playing, wondering if he had been playing too loud and had awoken his sleeping beauty.

"Ah, you are awake, my dear. I hope you slept well." Christine's jumped at the voice and finally noticed Erik looking at her over his shoulder from the piano bench. He smiled at the look of surprise that registered upon her features.

"I did, thank you," she answered hesitantly. Her mind was still cloudy and she couldn't quite decipher what part of the evening had been real and what had been a dream.

"Last night," she began slowly. "were you really behind..."

"Yes," Erik answered quickly.

"And I really walked through..."

"Yes."

"And the dark hallways..." Erik nodded.

"And you escorted me to...well, here. Where is here?"

"Yes, I brought you here, to my home. This is my music room," he stood up and gestured around the room filled with instruments and sheet music as well as comfortable lavish furniture. Christine pulled her knees and blanket up to her chest, staring at the black fabric. It was finally starting to sink in that last night was not a dream.

"But you are mistaken, Christine. It was not last night, but two nights ago. You have been asleep for almost thirty-six hours straight." Christine's stare shot up to him, eyes open wide. _I have been asleep for a day and a half! What about classes? What about Meg and Raoul? They must be worried sick about me!_

"I was beginning to get worried, so I came down here to play and make sure you were well. I hope I didn't disturb you," he continued, looking genuinely concerned. He almost seemed to blend into the décor of the room with a maroon button-down shirt and black pants. His white mask, as usual, stood in stark contrast.

"No," she assured him. She folded her legs under the blanket and let it fall onto her lap. "But I've been missing for so long. What about..." She began to express her concern, but Erik glided over to sit on the other end of the couch.

"Everything has been taken care of. There's no need to worry."

"But..." He placed a long thin finger on her lips to quiet her and shook his head.

"As far as everyone outside this room is concerned, you have taken a short leave to visit your ill foster grandmother. Your professors and friends all think you are back in Nathwood for the week," he explained, looking her straight in the eye.

"How?"

"Oh, it was easy really. A few phone calls and letters, and everything was set," he gave a small smile of pride. Christine couldn't help but give a smile in return, and then the most pressing question dawned upon her.

"Why? Why did you bring me here?"

"You need work Christine. Your singing is improving, but you have an audition in a week's time and I do not believe you are as prepared for it as you need to be. I need you to focus solely on improving your singing. There are too many distractions out there."

"So...this is like vocal boot camp?" she asked hesitantly. Erik chuckled, something he had never really had reason to do before, and stood up.

"I suppose you could call it that. I warn you, the training is going to get intense."

"And what if I don't want to?" She was shocked at his expression. He went from friendly and warm to cold, hurt, and dark in an instant.

"Then you can fail," he spat and turned his back on her.

"I'm kidding," she added quickly and grabbed his elbow. She stood and turned him to face her once again. "Of course I want to. Erik, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you going through all this trouble for me." His expression softened and he held her close for a minute, savoring her warmth and the feel of her body pressed against him, and the feel of her sleep-tousled hair under his chin.

"Erik, this may sound silly to you, but are you really _the_ Angel of Music? My father used to tell me stories, but..."

"He's in Heaven now, and you needed guidance," Erik interrupted. It wasn't exactly a lie. Sighing, he stepped back and took hold of her shoulders as arms length. Christine stared at him in awe.

"Time is wasting, Christine, so we had better start soon. There are clothes for you in wardrobe which I believe to be your size. I will fetch you something to eat and return in a few minutes." He stepped around her and disappeared through the door.

Christine watched him go and turned her attention to the wardrobe he indicated. Like all of the wood furniture in the room, it was dark mahogany finish with ornate carvings in the doors. She grasped the brass knobs and opened the doors. There were instrument cases and stands resting on the floor, but the rod and doors were loaded with clothes for every occasion. She noticed dress pants and jackets, button-down blouses and sweaters, even formal gowns and Victorian-style dresses. The two drawers below housed undergarments, socks, jeans, fitted t-shirts, and pajamas. It was only upon closer inspection of the lower drawers that Christine noticed at least a dozen pairs of shoes placed on the wardrobe floor: sneakers, loafers, boots, dress shoes with and without heels, sandals, slippers... Christine picked up one of the loafers and inspected the size. I was a size 7, her exact fit.

After close consideration, Christine reached for a pair of black slacks. Her hand brushed against something smooth and slippery and the candlelight glinted off of the object. She carefully parted the clothes and removed a shimmery pale blue Victorian gown with lace around the top and hem. Silver thread had been embroidered in intricate designs on the bodice. The dress took her breath away and she felt obligated to try it on. After a few minutes of fighting with the zipper, Christine was astonished at how well the dress fit her. It felt like it was tailored to fit every curve and was the skirt was the exact length, falling right below her ankles. She chose a pair of silver flats and searched for a mirror but found none, so she twirled, feeling like a princess as the skirt flared out around her.

"What's the special occasion?" Erik asked from the doorway, holding a tray. He had been watching his angel twirl around the room like a carefree little girl for a few moments and smiled. _She's happy. At least this once, I have made her happy._

Christine stopped in mid-twirl at the question and turned bright red.

"It was so beautiful that I had to try it on," she said, looking at the floor in embarrassment. How much did Erik see of her little dance? _How could I let me see me like this? He must think I'm just a stupid child. _"I'll change."

Erik set the tray on the end table and crossed the room. He stood in front of Christine and gently raised her chin up to him and gazed into her eyes. He brought her hand gently up to his lips. Christine shuddered as a pleasant sensation ran up and down her spine.

"You look beautiful, my dear," he said.

"Beautiful? You just said I'm beautiful?"

"Yes I did," Erik said confused. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're beautiful?"

"No," Christine replied sadly. "Pretty, incredible, and other words the may mean beautiful, but never beautiful."

"Well, now you have. You are beautiful, Christine, in such a special way unlike anyone else. That dress does not do your beauty justice, but do not change."

"Ok, I'll keep it on," Christine replied, near breathless. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath gently on her face. Her focus went from his intense eyes to his inviting lips. She shifted her face slightly closer...so close...

"Dinner?"

"Huh?" Christine stepped back, flushed.

"Are you hungry? I brought you dinner," Erik repeated, walking over to the tray. He lifted the brushed silver shield to reveal a plate of chicken fettuccini alfredo, a small salad, and a glass of red wine. Christine stood frozen in shock at the meal in front of her.

"Where did this come from?" she asked as Erik pulled up a chair and motioned for her to sit down. She complied.

"The kitchen, " he replied and sat across the small table. "I hope you find it satisfactory."

"You cooked this?"

"Cooking is one of my many talents, along with fashion design." Christine nearly choked on her forkful of salad.

"You made _this_?" She looked down at her dress in awe. Erik nodded.

"That piece is one of my favorites. I made it especially for you." Christine beamed.

"Now finish you dinner before it gets cold," Erik instructed. Christine turned her attention back to the wonderful meal prepared for her.

"What about you? Aren't you eating?"

"No, I already ate," Erik lied. He hardly ever ate, only about a meal per day if that. It was his music and passion that sustained him.

"I will, however, have a drink with you," he continued. He left momentarily and returned with an open bottle of wine and a piece of stemware that matched Christine's. He raised his glass in toast.

"To us and hopefully the start of something wonderful." Christine felt a pang of uneasiness. She had heard those words before but for some odd reason, she couldn't remember where.

"To us," she replied with a smile, pushing the pang away. The wine was very sweet and complemented the meal nicely. She savored each bite of the food and was disappointed when she reached her fill.

Erik cleared the tray and returned to the music room. Christine asked if he had a mirror around so she could see the dress for herself.

"Come, I shall give you the grand tour of my domain," He offered his arm and escorted Christine around his lair. At the end of the hallway on every floor, there was a janitor's closet and behind each of those closets, Erik had built a room which could be accessed by a small staircase stretching from the basement all the way up to the third floor. Erik's library and drawing room was in the basement. Above that, on the ground floor, was Erik's kitchen and bathroom. The music room was on the second floor and Erik's bedroom was housed on the third floor. He did not actually take her up to his room. It was too close to her dorm room and he would show her it all in good time.

"How did you manage to build this, Erik? Doesn't anyone know that these rooms are here?"

"No, I was actually hired to help build this dormitory several years ago and I added a few changes to the architectural plans. The dolts the school hired to build this were none the wiser and the head architect was too busy on other jobs to survey the building in progress. I suppose everyone just thinks we have huge janitorial closets."

Christine was in awe at how "with a few changes" Erik was able to create a perfectly hidden 4-story home at the end of the hallways of a college dormitory. She certainly wouldn't have believed it was possible.

A few hours later, they returned to the music room and Christine flopped down exhaustedly on the couch. He sat down next to her and let her head rest on his shoulder.

"If I had known that I was going to be hiking, I would have chosen a different outfit. This dress is heavy!"

"Tired?"

"Mhmm, " she nodded and closed her eyes.

"Well, you should be. It's about 2 in the morning."

"What? How can that be?" She snuggled closer to Erik who suddenly felt his heart skip a beat.

"You woke up in the middle of the day, my dear."

"Oh," she said quietly in understanding.

"You had best be getting some sleep. Tomorrow the real work begins."

"Oh," she sighed in disappointment—not at the work, but at the fact that Erik would be leaving. She was relishing in his warmth and just being next to him. It seemed like forever since she had somebody to lean on. She felt him shift and stand up. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Good night, Christine."

"Good night, my Angel of Music," she replied with a content grin. Her father had kept his promise after all. Somehow, this man or angel was sent to her to help her achieve her dreams. Only time would tell if they were meant to come true.

Erik blew out all but two of the candles before leaving the room. Christine then slowly pulled herself up to a standing position and proceeded to find her way out of the dress and into some pajamas.


	12. Everything I do

**A.N.: ah, a long awaited update. Sorry it's been so long, but settling back into college and such has left me little time to write. I believe the next few chapters to be up in fairly rapid sucession so hopefully they'll be worth the wait.  
**

Linda F.- Thank you so much for bearing with me.I hope I didn't disappoint. ** ;-)**

Chapter 12 Everything I do...

Christine once again woke to the sounds of Erik at the piano, but unlike the previous day, the music was far from peaceful and comforting. It was full of passion, loud, and startling. She had never heard such music coming from a piano before and she sat up so quickly she felt lightheaded. She closed her eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning before opening them once again to find Erik staring at her from his piano bench.

"Good morning. Time for the fun to begin," he said with a smirk. Christine groaned and fell back down, covering her face with a pillow. Erik swiped the pillow from her grasp.

"None of that now. Get dressed and I will bring you breakfast," he said, suddenly serious. The time for joking was over and it was time to get to work. They had already lost two days and Erik was determined to make the remaining five count.

Christine watched him leave the room and knew better than to argue. Sighing, she stood up and stretched. After donning her usual style of dress pants, blouse, and comfortable flats, she folded the blankets on the couch and awaited her mentor's return. A few minutes later, she was eating a breakfast of fruit and juice, and scanning the sheet music Erik had given her to peruse. He said the piece was a good exercise to extend her range and accuracy of pitch. She stood over by the piano and Erik directed her through a grueling set of warm-up scales. She had never worked up a sweat singing before, but she found herself growing warm from the training. They took a short respite after the scales for Erik to bring tea to help sooth Christine's throat. If she thought Erik was tough with scales, she was sadly surprised by his perfectionism when she sang the piece.

"Ready?" he asked impatiently, running his hands over the keys. She nodded and he played the opening chords. They did a quick run-through for Christine to figure out the melody and then things took a turn for the worse.

"_Think of me. Think of me fondly, when..."_

"Lift your chin, Christine"

_"...we've said good-bye. _ _Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try."_

"Straighten up, Christine. Shoulders back, chin up, support," he barked.

_"When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back and be free" _

"Sing out! You are holding back too much."

_"If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me..."_

"POSTURE, CHRISTINE!" he slammed his hands down on the keys and stood up. Glaring, he walked over to the startled singer. "When I give you an instruction, I expect you to follow it!"

Christine nodded and stared at the floor wide-eyed, not daring to look into his face. She felt heat rising to her cheeks and her vision was starting to become blurry due to tears.

"Good. Now, roll your shoulders back and open your chest area. This helps you breathe and support your voice," he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently rolled them into proper position.

"Straighten your back, don't arch," he walked behind her and moved her hips into proper alignment with his left hand while keeping her shoulders in position with his right. Christine felt like a mannequin being formed to his whim; however, she found that it was not an unpleasant feeling. He walked back around to her front and lifted her chin much higher than she ever carried it.

"Keep your chin up and be proud of yourself and your ability as a singer," he said, giving a hint of a smile. "This isn't just for singing, Christine. You have confidence and you need to show it."

Christine felt herself relax under his praise yet stayed in position. He was only trying to help her even if his method wasn't the most pleasant.

"Let's start again," he sat back down at the piano bench and began to play.

* * *

"She hasn't answered her cell phone in days," Raoul paced in Meg's room. "I've left her over a dozen voicemails. Why hasn't she called back? Something doesn't feel right, Meg." 

"Has it occurred to you that she hasn't called back _because_ you've left over a dozen voicemails?" Meg inquired from where she sat cross-legged on her bed. Raoul had been growing more and more anxious over Christine's sudden disappearance three days ago.

"I've said it before, Meg, and I'll say it again. It just isn't like her to take off without letting at least one of us know! She didn't call, email, IM, leave a note, nothing!" He ran his hands through his sandy hair and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Raoul, listen to me," Meg crossed the room and took hold of her friend's shoulders to stop his pacing. "I'm sure her sick grandmother is her first priority right now. She will call us when she gets a chance."

"But..."

"No buts, Raoul. Just let it drop. Mom said she will be back in a week, and then you can ask her about it. I'm warning you, though, don't start grilling her. That will just push her away."

The guy nodded and embraced Meg. He was thankful to have her as a friend and could always count on her to help him sort out his troubles. His mind reflected on one such horrible incident back in high school that nearly destroyed him and his family. Meg was the only person outside of his household and girl involved that knew about his dark secret. _I wonder whatever happened to Jeanette...NO! You have to forget the past. What's past is past and you need to focus on your future, Raoul. You need to focus on your future with Christine..._

"...and then I slowly unzipped the President's pants with my teeth..."

"Huh!" Raoul snapped out of his trance to find Meg laughing at him. "Did I miss something?"

"I was kidding. You haven't heard a word I said before, did you?" She gave a mock accusatory glare and then shrugged her shoulders.

"Come, I need lunch."

* * *

Over the next few days, Christine could feel herself improving. Her voice was stronger due to her exercises and corrected position, and she was overall more confident. 

_"...think...ahahahahahah-ahhhh ahahahahahah-ahhhh ahahahahah-ahhh-AHHHHHof meeeeeee"_ Christine's mouth was open in a wide smile and her expression was bright as she finished the piece with brilliant resonance.

"Bravo, my dear, bravo!" Erik stood from the bench with a wide grin. "That was perfect."

Christine let out a little childish squeal of excitement over her achievement and rushed over to give a very surprised phantom perfectionist a hug.

"Thank you SO much!" Erik felt his heart flutter again and looked down at his beautiful angel.

"No need to thank me, angel. Your happiness is gratitude enough."

Several hours later, Erik and Christine made a delicious meal of steak, baked potatoes, salad, and of course, red wine. Christine looked around the kitchenette. It was small yet efficient with numerous cupboards and shelves. There was an electric range and oven, a small sink, microwave in the corner, and a refrigerator. The stone gray tile floor was clean and coordinated with the grey and forest green of the wall paper. The counters were dark green marble print also matching the wallpaper. She noticed that Erik was setting their plates upon a tray.

"Aren't we going to eat in here?" She indicated the small white table and chairs placed in an empty corner of the kitchen where they had shared several meals during the previous days.

"No, we are dining in a new location tonight. Would you please grab the ice bucket and wine and follow me?" Christine did as she was told and followed him up the stairwell to a place that was foreign to her, Erik's bedroom.

He opened the door and held it, ever the gentleman, for Christine. When she entered, she realized that this was much more than a simple bedroom. This was the very image of Erik. Like every other room in his domain, the bedroom was comfortably furnished with classic dark-stained pieces and luxurious throw blankets and pillows. Erik's dark mahogany desk and chair were ornately carved and polished. A laptop computer sat on top of the desk along with extra speakers, a printer, a small vase full of writing instruments, and a stack of notebooks piled neatly on the side. The bed was rather large, probably Queen-sized with a black satin comforter and pile high with black and maroon satin-covered pillows. A small upright piano stood in the corner, and while not as impressive as the instrument in the music room, just seeing it there reminded her of how much music meant to this man. There were paintings and sketches plastered over the walls, as well as antique-looking sheet music and architectural drawings. Upon closer inspection, Christine noticed several of the sketches were of her: there was one of her standing next to the piano singing, another of her sitting peacefully by the lake in the Victorian gown she had worn that day she toured Erik's lair, even one of her standing on the curb looking somewhat lonely in an outfit Christine recognized as being the one she wore upon her arrival to Crawford College. What really caught her attention was a portrait of her hair swept up with fake flowers just like the night of her first college party- the night Erik rescued her.

Noticing her stare, Erik placed the tray on his desk and relieved Christine of the ice bucket and wine bottle. She carefully lifted the portrait off of the end-table for closer inspection.

"You really drew this? These?" she finally asked, breathless.

"I did," Erik replied softly, moving to stand behind her.

"They're amazing! You are really talented, except..." her voice trailed off for a second.

"Thank you, but except what?" Erik inquired, concerned.

"They're too wonderful to be me. These are so elegant and I'm so..." Erik spun Christine suddenly to face him.

"I have imagination and take artistic license in my work, but I drew these as I saw them. You don't believe me? Here," he moved Christine over to what looked like a narrow wardrobe and opened it up. It was a 3-piece mirror with an extra piece of glass sticking out of the center at an odd angle.

"This, this is what I see," he pointed toward the mirror and held up the sketch next to Christine.

Sure enough, she saw that there really was not much of a difference between the girl in the picture and the girl staring back at her from the mirror. She could feel happiness and joy beginning to well up inside her. Erik had uncovered an inner beauty she had never seen in herself before. Glancing at their reflection in the center mirror, she noticed that the extra piece reflected an image in such a way that only her left side showed along with a mirror image of herself. She lifted her left hand in the air and her reflection lifted what appeared to be both hands. _This is fun, like a carnival funhouse!_ She thought.

"This is a neat trick, Erik, why did you do it?" He turned away from her without saying a word. She looked at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"I did it for me," he finally replied so softly Christine was unsure if she really had heard him utter the words.

"I did it so I could see what I thought would be the real me." She waited a moment for further explanation, but received none.

"We should eat," he said finally turning back to face Christine. "Our meal will be getting cold."

They ate in silence, both lost deep in thought. Christine was pondering what Erik meant by "_I did it so I could see what I thought would be the real me." _It suddenly occurred to her that since it only showed half of her face, he must have made it so he could see what his face might look like without the mask. _But what is so horrible that he feels he needs to wear that mask? _The mystery behind the unknown had intrigued her from the moment she first saw him. Remembering back to that day she bumped into him going into the music build, it was his shroud of mystery that had drawn her to him. She had been curious about it ever since, but her polite manners told her it would be rude of her to pry and that Erik would share his secret with her when he was ready. Now, it was the charming and quite handsome genius who sat across from her savoring his food that she...loved? Liked? Her mind was a cloudy mess of confusion over the startling realization that Meg had been right all along. She was falling for Erik, a man she hardly knew, but one who possessed a passion and stillness that is rarely found in the world today.

Her mind unwillingly drifted toward the other man in her life, Raoul. He was always her "Prince Charming". She remembered him as a boy and throughout their time apart, she dreamed that they would be reunited someday and together live happily ever after. She never thought it would actually happen, but here they both were attending the same college and even living near each other in the dorm, and to top it all off, he still had feelings for her. It really was like a dream come true, but now her growing affections for Erik were becoming a factor. Something about the way he looked at her made her feel as if she was the only woman in his life, ever. He had a dark tortured soul that, while she did not know what had happened to him in his past, she wanted to make sure his future was a million times better. It was as if she wished to take him under her wing and care for him as he had been doing for her.

Erik, too, was lost in thought and completely entranced by his beautiful guest. Over the past week, he felt himself grow more and more comfortable around her. While it was pleasant not to be on-edge all of the time, he was worried that the subject of his past and mask was bound to come up soon. Christine was a curious girl and he knew it was only a matter of time before her curiosity overtook her manners and she would begin the horrid questioning. He felt himself shudder but was unable to suppress it.

"Are you ok?" Christine asked at the sight of him trembling. Erik took a second to school his features into a non-committal expression.

"I'm fine, " he lied. Christine raised an eyebrow.

"Fine? You do know what fine stands for, don't you?" she asked with a smirk. Erik sat confused.

"It means well, in good health, all right, everything is kosher, etc." Christine shook her head.

"Nope, wrong answer." Erik gave her a blank look and she giggled softly. It sounded like trickling water and beautifully musical.

"Fine stands for," she held up four fingers and lowered each one as she named the points. "freaked-out, insecure, neurotic, and emotion. Are you still fine?" she teased. Erik was in shock. What she had just described was him exactly. He was definitely _fine_. He cleared his throat and regained his composure.

"I am all right. Is that better?" He asked with a sly grin.

Christine nodded and turned her attention back to the last of her food; Erik followed suit and soon they were lost in their own thoughts once again.

_So many things to tell her, but how do I make her see the truth about my past? It's impossible. She'll be like everyone else and flee as far as she can away from me._ The thought sent tears to his eyes but he willed them into submission, and speared his last bite of steak. Chewing, he looked up to find Christine gazing at him curiously. _Uh oh, _he thought. _It's starting._

_He's holding back. He's hiding, but what I can't decide. Why won't he be the amazing man I know he can be to the world? I can see that man inside. _Christine's eyes began to sting, but she fought her tears back and gazed at Erik. _How can I get him to open up, even just a little? _Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. She had not really heard him sing since the night they broke into Farber Auditorium. She stood up and took Erik's left hand.

"Come," she tugged lightly, raising Erik to his feet. "Will you sing for me again?"

"I would be honored," he said softly and raised her hand to his lips. He turned to lead her down to the music room, but turned back when he encountered resistance. Christine shook her head and blushed.

"No, right here," she motioned toward the piano. "Right now."

Erik cocked his head and looked into her eyes with curiosity. Surely, even Christine would be able to recognize that this piano was downright mediocre compared to the one in the music room- her room, but he wasn't going to argue.

"I can deny you nothing, my dear," he smiled softly at her. Sitting on the piano bench, he lifted the cover and contemplated what he would sing. Christine settled herself next to him on the bench. It was a little crowded with two people and Erik was used to having space when he played, but there was no complaint. Just having Christine next to him made everything right. The look of eager anticipation and delight on the girl's face made his spirit soar. He placed his hands on the keys and began to play a melody he had felt in his heart since the day he first saw Christine, but had never played out loud.

_Look into my eyes - you will see  
What you mean to me  
Search your heart - search your soul  
And when you find me there you'll search no more  
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for  
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for  
You know it's true  
Everything I do - I do it for you_

He glanced over at Christine who had fallen silent and appeared to be lost in lovely thoughts. She could tell that he was pouring his soul out into this song. It sent pleasant shivers up her spine and she could feel goose-bumps rising on her arms.

_Look into my heart - you will find  
There's nothin' there to hide  
Take me as I am - take my life  
I would give it all I would sacrifice  
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for  
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more  
Ya know it's true  
Everything I do - I do it for you_

Here, Erik played a piano break and closed his eyes, allowing the music to simply flow from his heart onto the keyboard. He felt a shift of weight and saw that Christine had gotten up to stand over by his mirror. She smiled at her reflection which she now saw now in a completely different way thanks to Erik. She stood with proper posture and she definitely looked more confident. She turned her head to look at Erik as he started to sing again.

_There's no love - like your love  
And no other - could give more love  
There's nowhere - unless you're there  
All the time - all the way_

Christine opened her mouth and let her voice flow with Erik's. It blended perfectly even though there was no possible way for her to know that words, she sang them in perfect harmony. Erik heard her voice mingle with his and looked over at her. His hands stopped playing the accompaniment but his voice kept singing as he stood up and gracefully glided over to her. She could tell that he wasn't just singing for her, he was singing to her. Erik was pouring out all of the emotions he had been building up for Christine.

_Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for  
I can't help it there's nothin' I want more  
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you  
Walk the wire for you - Ya I'd die for you  
_

Christine broke her direct gaze from Erik and instead turned toward the mirror. Erik took behind her and she sang to his reflection. What she saw in front of her nearly took her breath away. Only the left side of Erik's face reflected in the mirror, but it mirrored itself making a full face like she had experienced before. A mask-less face. This was what Erik had meant. This was the real him, the way he felt on the inside.

_Ya know it's true  
Everything I do - I do it for you_

_A.N. ((Everything I Do) I Do It For You- Bryan Adams)_

Erik paid no attention to his reflection in the mirror. He had seen it enough times to know it was only a lie. He had designed it, foolishly believing that if he stared at the image of his perfect face long enough, it would become reality. Instead, he beheld the image of his angel. She was so perfect and beautiful. He reached up and placed his right forearm across her shoulders, just beneath her delicate throat and gently drew her closer to him. She melted into his muscular chest, closed her eyes, and lightly rested her head in the crook of his elbow. Christine fell silent while Erik sang the last lines like that, swaying together to the silent music. He sang softly right next to her ear and she could feel his breath sending the now ever-present shivers through her body. She trembled slightly as her emotions crashed upon her like a giant wave. She opened her eyes and looked directly at Erik's image in the mirror.

"Do you mean it?" she asked in a near-breathless whisper. "That song you sang to me...is it true?"

Erik's eyes intensified and his wistful look disappeared. He spun Christine around to face and looked deeply into her eyes, all nervousness and uncertainties gone.

"Every word. That song is yours. You inspired it and only you will ever hear it."

Christine brought her arms up to circle his neck and pressed her body closer to him. She stared back into his eyes and realized that she was indeed quickly falling in love with this man. If she was to love him, however, there could be no boundaries between them, no secrets to hide. The mask stood like a large brick wall separating them. Before she even knew what she was doing, her hands crept up through his soft black hair and found the tie that held the mask in place. Deftly, she slid the tie up and removed the barrier in one swift motion.

She froze in shock at the sight in front of her. As handsome and enchanting as the normal side of his face was, the half covered up by the mask was disturbingly disfigured and haunting. The flesh was a horrific combination of pale white and bright pink. In some areas it appeared to be pulled far too tight while other areas bulged unnaturally. There was no hair or eyebrow on that side of his face and his ear looked like it had been almost melted right off. It was a tragic sight and one which Christine could never have imagined. Erik, too, froze in place for a fraction of an instant as his world and rationality crumbled around him and all of his worst fears came true. Primal survival instinct kicked in without his knowledge.

Christine frozen pose was short lived as Erik harshly pushed her away from him, accidentally striking her in the face in the process, and sent her crashing into the edge of the desk. He then spun around, letting loose terrifying howl and a string of expletives before wheeling around to face her with his right hand up attempting to cover his horrific face.

"DAMNIT, CHRISTINE! YOU SELFISH LITTLE BITCH," he boomed. Christine's eyes went wide from his sudden outburst and she scooted back until she felt her back pressed against his desk where she cowered. Her hand reached up to cover her bruised cheek.

"You betrayed me. I trusted you and you betrayed me," he hissed, his stare cold and steely. This was the side of him Christine had never wanted to see and she could tell he was within moments of loosing all control. Tears of fear sprung to her eyes as she shook her head. No, she had not meant to betray him. She just wanted to see him so she could tell Erik she loved him...all of him. What she had not anticipated was the violent fury that had lurked beneath the surface. Her heart was pounding as Erik continued his barrage. She observed her surroundings for an escape route. If she could just get past Erik to his right, she could run out the door. _But how do I get out of the lair? _She thought, panicked. He had never shown her the exit to the outside world. If only she could figure out where the passageway behind her dorm room mirror was, maybe then she could escape.

Suddenly, the room was shrouded in an eerie silence. Christine could feel her heart pounding loudly against her chest and was gasping for breath. She stole a glance at Erik who was standing next to the piano softly running his fingers across the smooth wood.

"Erik?" she whispered, but no sound came out. She tried swallowing even though her mouth felt full of cotton, and tried again.

"Erik?" she croaked. He did not reply. Shakily, she rose to her feet and glanced at the broad back. Slowly, she took a step closer, trying to keep her trembling at bay.

"I thought you were different," he mumbled so softly that Christine was unsure if he actually spoke. "I thought things would be different."

"Erik, I'm so sorry," she sobbed and took another tentative step closer.

"You're so sorry," Erik replied in a sarcastic scathing tone that sent the hairs on Christine's neck flying up. It was bone-chillingly calm and cruel. "Everyone is _so sorry_. I've heard it all before." He turned and sneered.

"_Sorry_ doesn't change anything," he turned to face Christine and stealthily got so close to her face that she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. What once was a pleasant sensation was now one of fear and dread.

"So, you wanted to see what lay under the mask did you, now you have," he ripped his hand away from his face and yelled, "Well, do you like what you see! Are you satisfied now! Are you going to be telling all of your little friends about the monster! ARE YOU!"

Christine shook her head and tried to move away. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Have you gotten a good enough look?" he asked, his voice dangerous and sarcastic once again. "You have heard the old saying 'curiosity killed the cat' haven't you? Well, my dear. You are quite the feline."

Christine's face went white and her eyes bulged in fear. She took frozen in place as the realization of his words struck her like a bolt of lightening. He was going to kill her. In a flash, her own survival instinct kicked in and she brought up her knee to connect with his groin. He roared in pain as she pushed him away from her and fled out the bedroom door. She jumped down the stairs three at a time and stopped at the music room. No, he would surely find her there. After fleeing around the hidden rooms like a bird trapped inside a house, she finally fled into the bathroom. At least she knew that door had a lock. Common sense would have told her that no locked room was safe because Erik, of course, would have the key, but common sense had left her as quickly as she had left Erik's room. She sat shaking like a trapped animal on the closed toilet seat waiting for her doom to come storming through the door.


	13. Listen to Your Heart

_Sorry for taking forever to post another chapter. This was a tough one, but extra long so I hope it was worth the wait. Once again, I thrive on reviews! Special thanks to those who have taken the time to do so already._

Chapter 13 Listen to Your Heart

Erik knowingly walked through his domain and went straight for the bathroom. It had been hard to miss the slam of the door as Christine barricaded herself inside. He mused at how easily it would be to pick the lock and confront her right there, but his blind rage was diminishing and he realized this was his beloved Christine he was so evilly pursuing. Instead, he stood outside the door and mused out loud to himself. His musings soon gained a chanting tempo and he slid down the wall. The events of the past few minutes had started to finally catch up to him. His rage was all but gone and all that was left was an emotional wreck. Tears streamed down his face as he continued his sobbing chant.

_"Stranger than you dreamt it, can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly..."_

Christine stopped quivering and tip-toed over to the door to listen to her Angel of Music pour his heart out in despair. Her head was telling her that this could be a horrid trap to lure her out of hiding, but her heart told her otherwise.

_"Fear can turn to love. You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly...secretly..."_

"Oh, Christine," he sighed. He heard a faint click of the lock and Christine very slowly opened the door. She half expected to see Erik standing right there ready to pounce upon her, but she certainly didn't expect the heap of a man in front of her.

He was on the floor with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. His face was buried in his hands resting on his knees and his hair was completely disheveled. She looked down at him for a few moments, not sure if he even knew she had come out of the bathroom, and then cautiously inched closer to him. She crouched down closer to his level, but remained an arm's length away and carefully held out the mask to him. Without looking up, Erik gently reached out and took the mask and then turned away to put it back in place. He heard the scuffle of feet and turned back around, now masked, to find himself alone. Christine had hurried back to her room for the night.

Erik just sat there in shock, his mind replaying the evening's events. _What happened? What have I done? I hit Christine! _He pounded the floor in anger at himself and wept. He wept for his hideous face. He wept for his awful temper that made him become the very monster his face depicted- the one he despised with an indescribable fury. Mostly, though, he wept for Christine and the fact that he had ruined any chance at her loving him like he did her. She was just beginning to see past his flaws and now, he had given her every right to fear and loathe him.

Sighing, he lifted himself into a standing position and returned to his room to survey the damage and attempt to repair the train wreck he felt inside.

* * *

Christine awakened suddenly from her uneasy slumber. The events of the previous night had shaken her to her very core. It wasn't the sight of Erik's hideously deformed face, though that was an image that will be permanently etched in her mind. No, it was the way he lashed out at her with such fury that frightened her. Her hand flew to her slightly swollen cheek and she winced at the ache the movement created. She knew that Erik had not meant to strike her, but fact remained that he had hurt her both physically and verbally. She thought back to the way he reacted when she finally gave in to her urge to uncover the secret behind the mask. He was like a wounded animal, hurt and dangerous. A shudder coursed through her body.

"Christine?" came a soft voice from the doorway. She involuntarily pulled the blanket tighter around her body as if to protect herself. She kept her eyes glued to the floor for fear of the reaction that looking Erik in the eye might cause. He slowly crossed the room and placed a hand lightly upon her shoulder. She recoiled at his touch and he quickly moved to the foot of the couch, gazing at her with glistening eyes.

"Christine, I'm sorry. I'm so _so_ sorry." She continued her downward stare. "I swore that I would never hurt you and I already have. Please, Christine. You have to understand..."

The tone he was using made her feel like the frightened animal that was being quietly calmed. She wanted to hang on to her fear and anger, but there was something disarming about Erik that made those feelings melt away until she felt totally empty. She finally tore her focus away from the maroon carpeting and looked at his face. His eyes, so full of hurt and pain, were glossy with unshed tears. There was no hint of the demon now buried deeply inside of him.

"...no words can express the regret and shame I feel right now," he continued. "But you have to understand what this mask means to me. You have to understand what my life has been like..." He choked back a sob. He willed himself not to cry in front of his beloved. He did not care if showing his true emotions made him appear weak, Erik was proud of his sensitivity; the true meaning for holding back his emotions was for Christine's sake. He did not want her to realize just how much her simple act of curiosity had affected him.

"Then tell me," she whispered. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"Tell me what your life has been like. Tell me what you have gone through. Please?" Christine thought that maybe, just maybe if Erik opened up to her, she would be able help him somehow.

"God, Christine. I don't even know where to begin."

"Start at the beginning."

"You do realize that this could take days, don't you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm not going anywhere any time soon, so all I have is time. Stop making excuses."

Erik suddenly got a determined look on his face and smiled softly.

"There may be a way to show you. I can show you everything, but you have to trust me. Do you trust me, Christine?" He held out his hands. She stared at them and contemplated his request. If he had asked the same question less than twenty-fours earlier, there would have been no doubt in her mind. Of course she trusted him. After the recent turn of events, she had to think twice.

"Please?" His pleading expression disarmed her reservations and she placed her shaking hands in his.

"I do, Erik."

"Ok," he said sounding very relieved and choking back a sob. She never ceased to amaze him. After everything that he had done, Christine still trusted him. He wished he could be as trusting as she was. "Close your eyes and try to relax. Think of nothing except blackness."

Christine cocked an eyebrow and gave a curious look before complying. "I am going to try to take you into my past through telepathy -- another hidden talent of mine -- and let you see it for yourself. This is the only way I can make you truly understand," he explained.

Christine felt a nervous chill run up her spine and it took all of her willpower to hide the shudder.

"Now, clear your mind of all thoughts and focus only on the sound of my voice."

Erik began talking in a smooth, monotone voice, but try as she might, Christine could not relax enough to stop the flurry of confusion she had whirling around in her head. After a few minutes, she finally opened her eyes and sighed.

"Erik, it's not working. I just have so many questions..." Erik nodded in response.

"Let's try another way, shall we?" A worried expression played on Christine's features and reservations started playing in her head until Erik opened his mouth.

"_Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses..."_

Christine gazed at him in wonder as his voice quietly surrounded her like a warm blanket, chasing away all of her fears and worries. This was the Erik she knew and loved.

"_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor  
Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,   
Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light  
And listen to the music of the night..."_

He reached up a hand and caressed her swollen cheek, sending shivers up her spine. He delighted in the way she leaned into his cool touch and began to sing with a touch more of conviction.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!  
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!  
And you'll live as you've never lived before..."_

Christine had long since closed her eyes and felt her hands melting into Erik's. She felt a shift as he stood up from the couch, still keeping her hands in his and walked around to sit behind her. He wrapped his arms around her as her arms crossed in her lap.

"_Softly, deftly, music shall surround you  
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,  
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night  
Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world!  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!  
Let your soul take you where you long to be!  
Only then can you belong to me..."_

Christine was only barely aware of her surroundings. Her mind had begun to calm and thoughts began to fade into blackness. She was now totally focused only on Erik's voice and the warmth she felt as she sat wrapped in his strong arms.

_"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!  
Touch me, trust me savor each sensation!  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in  
To the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night..."_

She felt herself completely relaxing and sank back into his muscular chest. Sighing, she wished she could stay just like this forever...

"Christine, we're here. You can open your eyes," he whispered in her ear. _Damnit._ She reluctantly opened her eyes expecting to see the familiar sight of the music room. To her amazement, she was standing in the interior of a small rundown house. A woman sat smoking in a faded armchair watching a soap opera and flicked some ashes onto the burned and worn out carpet which covered the floor, while a small child played in a playpen on the other side of the room.

"Hello?" Christine said out loud. The woman did not respond, so Christine walked closer. "Excuse me..." She placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, but it went right through it as if she was a ghost. _You are a ghost, Christine. This must be Erik's past, which means..._ She walked over to the playpen expecting to see a younger version of Erik and his sadly deformed face. Instead, a cute baby boy seemed to stare up at her with familiar blue-green eyes.

_He wasn't born that way! _Suddenly, baby Erik began to cry. His crying soon became a heartbreaking wail and Christine glanced over to the woman – his mother – wondering if she could hear that she was needed. Her only response was to reach for the remote to turn up the volume of the television. Christine stared at her, amazed at the lack of concern. Upon closer inspection, the woman appeared to drift in and out of consciousness and stared blankly into space with bloodshot eyes.

_She's on drugs?_! The cries began to fade as did the room around her and then she found herself standing in the same room, but obviously a few years later. Christine spotted a newspaper which lay forgotten on the coffee table with a date of November 22, 1990. Calculating in her head, Christine guessed that Erik was probably about eight years old. No one was in the room, so she decided to explore the house. She heard voices coming from a back porch and found Erik sitting in a rusting folding chair holding a sketchbook and drawing a picture of a beautiful mountain vista. Evidently his artistic talent had come to him early, as the pencil drawing was breathtaking.

"ERIK!" a male voice boomed from the house and Christine could see young Erik cringe as he closed his book and headed inside. Christine followed him into a small kitchen which had obviously been decorated in the 1950s and had not been remodeled since.

"Yes, Father," he mumbled, head down.

"Where have you been!" Erik's father was tall, and Christine marveled at how much of a resemblance there was between this man and the Erik she knew. The major differences were in the way they kept themselves. Older Erik was always neat and well dressed. This man appeared scruffy and unkempt.

"On the porch, drawing."

"DRAWING! There are plenty of more important things to do around here than _drawing_," he yelled. "Now get to work and set the table for supper."

"Yes, Father."

"And hand over that notebook. You're grandmother spoils you rotten: giving you things to occupy time that's better spent helping your mother around the house."

Erik clutched his sketchbook tightly to his chest and shook his head. No, this man could not take this book; it meant the world to him.

"Hand it over, Son."

"No," Erik said in defiance, eyes wide with fear yet determined.

His father let out a growl and ripped the sketchbook from his son's grasp. Erik desperately attempted to steal it back, but his father held it just out of reach and smirked down at his son. Erik almost achieved his goal on one attempt, but the man waved his arm which sent little Erik to the floor, and then kicked the small figure with the toe of his boot. Turning his back, Erik's father turned toward another door, the basement, and descended into the darkness. Erik rose shakily to his feet and stumbled over to the door, holding his bruised side.

"No, Daddy, no! PLEASE! I promise to be good. I promise to help. I will never draw again, but please don't burn it!" The boy pleaded from the top of the stairs, tears streaming down his face.

Christine could feel tears of her own coming to her eyes. The expression of young Erik broke her heart.

After a few minutes, footstep came up from the basement and she saw Erik quickly wipe his tears away and an angry expression crossed his young features. The smell of smoke hit her nostrils and she realized he must have thrown the sketchbook into a furnace.

"You going to cry now, boy?" He sneered down at his son. Erik met his stare with one of his defiant glares.

"No, I never cry," he lied.

"Go get ready for dinner." Erik turned to go back into the kitchen, face full of fury and whispered in a tone that made Christine shudder.

"_You'll pay for that one day."_

Once again, the image faded into darkness and Christine soon found herself back in the living room. A calendar on the wall read 1992, two years later than the previous events. Once again, Erik's mother was near catatonic a chair by the television. She heard a loud bang as Erik's father, looking even worse than he had before, came stumbling through the door with such drunken fury that Christine cowered behind a chair. She knew full well that she didn't even exist in this world, but his rage and the strong smell of liquor on his breath frightened her.

"YOU TRAMPSLUTWHOREBITCH! GET YOUR CHEATING ASS OVER HERE NOW!" He thundered. Erik came running into the room just in time to see his father storm over to his mother and rip her from the chair.

"So, you thought that you could go around banging every man in town behind my back and that I wouldn't find out?" The woman shook her head in her drugged state and began to cry.

"Some piece of trash you turned out to be!" He threw her into the wall and grabbed her by the throat as she slid down. "I should have known that I had a filthy whore for a wife. Not anymore!"

Christine tore her eyes form the violent scene and saw Erik staring motionless. His father continued to rant and repeatedly struck his wife with each phrase, as if to reinforce some major point.

Without warning, Erik jumped into action rushing over to tackle his father. The momentum he carried knocked his father away from the now unconscious woman. Curse-filled voices from both man and boy filled the room as the scuffle carried on. For being so young, Erik seemed to be holding his own against the fury of his father.

In a flash, Erik's father threw his head against his son's before standing up to glare at the nearly-unconscious boy. Wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand, he reached down and began to drag Erik by his shirt collar toward the basement door.

A feeling of dread came over Christine and she moved to block his way, but the man walked right through her and descended the dark stairs, son in tow. Christine was not about to follow them down the stairs when an omniscient voice resounded gently in her head.

_"Go, you need to see this..."_

She hesitantly followed the pair down into darkness. Her eyes soon adjusted and could make out the man's figure in front of a large object. She crept closer to try to make out the drunken mumbling of the man.

"...I demand respect around here but I don't get any..."

Christine squinted as the room was filled with glowing orange light after Erik's father opened a door. She could feel the heat blasting from the furnace.

_No, _she thought. _No, please God, no._

"Until now only I have seen the monster you are. Now EVERYONE WILL SEE!" With that, he shoved Erik face first into the inferno.

Christine screamed and desperately tried to pull him out, but her hands went through thin air. The smell of burning hair and flesh left her sick to her stomach. She heard an excruciating scream as she dropped to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably. She looked up after a few eternal seconds to see the man finally pull his son out of the fire and splash his head with a bucket of water before turning and walking back upstairs.

Erik lay unconscious on the floor of the basement, groaning in pain. She carefully inched over and saw that the left side of his face was scorched, but fairly untouched. Swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat, Christine slowly reached out to turn the boy's head so she could see the other half of his face. To her surprise, she found that she could touch him and carefully turned his head. The light from the still open furnace chased away the shadows. The whole right side of his face looked as if he had been skinned. His hair was burned and she thought she could actually see a small portion of his skull showing through a deep burn wound. The remaining pieces of flesh were tinged in black and blood red.

Christine quickly withdrew her hand and turned away. She fell against a wall, shaking, crying, and covering her mouth with her hand. It was worse than any nightmare she had ever imagined.

_"Horrific, isn't it?" _a distant voice said sadly. Christine could not respond. She remained in her state of shock as scenes changed yet again.

Erik was sitting on the couch in a different home reading a novel. His face was bandaged and he glared as an elderly woman entered carrying a tray of milk and cookies. She gently set the tray on the coffee table and seated herself next to the boy.

"Would you like a snack, dear?"

"No," came a cold reply.

"No what?" she gently prompted him to remember his manners.

"No, thank you. Satisfied?" he sneered and tossed the book on the couch in frustration. Christine followed him as he stormed out of the room and into the den where he proceeded over to a large cloth-covered object. Soon, angry music filled the room as Erik furiously pounded the keys. It was obvious that he knew nothing of notes or sheet music, but the strange yet captivating chords he produced were like nothing Christine had ever heard before. The woman stood in the doorway and waited for him to finish. As the last notes rang in the air, she finally spoke.

"Erik, I will teach you to play the piano properly if you let me..."

"I can do it myself!"

"There are exercise books in the bench if you choose to use them."

"Fine."

The woman sighed at his cold angry tone. This poor boy had been through hell already, but she knew the worst was yet to come. He had been horribly disfigured by his father only a few short months ago, and both his physical and his emotional scars would haunt him the rest of his life. Even as a grandmother, there was only so much she could do, but her heart went out to this poor troubled boy. The least she could do was try to give her grandson a gift, a gift that could be with him forever, a gift in which he could take comfort when life was to the point of being unbearable. She had already cultivated his artistic talents, but she knew that he needed more.

"_She chose something that was unlimited and always changing...the gift of music. It was her, Christine, who introduced me to music."_

Christine smiled as she watched the boy take out several instructional piano books and determinedly repeated every exercise until they were all perfect. The world suddenly began to spin again and Erik's past flashed quickly before her eyes. She saw him in school being picked on for being the smart kid. She saw him playing difficult pieces on the piano with ease. She saw him at school again being picked on because of the mask her wore, including an incident where another boy ripped the mask off in front of his buddies who shrieked and began attacking Erik, who fought back valiantly. Everything finally settled on a quiet scene in the cemetery. _Margaret Ann VanHoren_, the tombstone read. She saw Erik, now a young teenager, standing closest to the grave as the priest gave his final blessing.

"Goodbye, Grandma," he whispered and placed a single red rose with a black ribbon bow on the casket as it was lowered into the ground. Tears began running down his visible cheek and he stood at the fresh grave until he was the only one left.

"You were the only one who ever understood me, the only one how truly cared. I know I didn't make it easy. I figured I could just shut you out because you were bound to abandon me like everyone else. I was wrong, Grandma. I was wrong. Please forgive me. I miss you terribly already and now I will life alone forever because only you could see past my face. Only you knew that there was no monster inside me," Erik sobbed and rambled on, unable to stop. Suddenly, his sobs ended and a cold, heartless expression graced his features. Christine was stunned at the transformation and once again felt the familiar nervous tingle.

"You lied to me! You told me you loved me and you would never abandon me, but you have! You really are just like everyone else. I hate you!" He glared at the marble tombstone and turned away.

"_Erik..." _a soft voice whispered. Both teenage Erik and Christine looked to find its source, but no one was around.

"_Erik, I have not left you alone._"

"Grandma? Is that you?" he asked in amazement.

"_When the right time comes, you will find an angel to guide you...an Angel of Music._"

"Angel of Music?"

"_She will show you the way._"

"You're not making any sense. I will I find her?"

_"You will know it is her in your heart...listen to your heart..._" The voice faded off and all was silent.


	14. Return to Reality

Chapter 14 Return to Reality

After several more montages of Erik growing up, she felt like there was no emotion left inside her. He was constantly persecuted for his looks and was forced into hiding from the world. Alone in this darkness, she could see his temperament growing darker, more dangerous, and more sinister. The atmosphere in the current dark room made the hairs on her neck stand on end. The room appeared to be in basement and was lit by a few candles which did not shed nearly enough light to chase away the shadows.

Both she and a late-teenager Erik startled when a loud bang and shout came from the heavy wooden door. She watched as he grabbed an object and made his way to the door. He cautiously opened to find a bulky teenage boy leering at him.

"So this is where the neighborhood freak lives," he sneered. Christine was sure that he had been sent by his buddies to prove his machismo.

"I'll be back..._freak,_" he said and began to turn to leave. Almost too quick to even see, Erik's hand shot out a short length of rope which formed a noose around the boy's neck. She cried out as she saw Erik pull it tighter until the boy began to fall to the ground.

_Shit shit SHIT!_ Erik screamed in his mind. He had shown her too much. Much too much!

"Christine, listen to me. When I count to three, you will wake up. One...two...three..."

Christine's eyes flew open in fear as she found herself face to face with Erik. She opened her mouth to scream and struggled to get away when she felt a hand firmly smother her cry and a forearm pressed against her collarbone. She was trapped against the back of the couch.

"Relax, calm down," Erik ordered with a soothing yet firm voice. She felt herself immediately relax in obedience and soon found herself free yet again. Erik repositioned himself to give more distance between them. Christine only stared in midair and trembled.

"You...he...they...YOU..." she stammered, not making any sense.

Erik stood up and started pacing around the room. This was a mistake. He had made a terrible mistake. Christine should never have been witness to the horrors of his life. She was far too fragile and delicate. Such visions could leave her permanently traumatized. He had hurt his precious Christine and for that he could never forgive himself. He had hurt her, frightened her, and now emotionally scarred her. The only thing left was to kill her. He shuddered as the thought passed through his mind.

_Why in the HELL did I just think of that! I would never lay a hand on Christine, let alone kill her_, he thought in horror.

_But you already did, _his mind taunted back. _Look at her, Erik, just look at what you've done to the poor girl. _He glanced in her direction and quickly looked away.

_She's sitting there in terror and shock and it's all you're fault. It's always your fault. She hates you now because you couldn't control that damned temper of yours. You're a monster. You're a wretched monster that people can't even stand to be near. To think that you thought she would be different; that somehow she wouldn't see the monster that you really are. You are a fool. You are a pitiful fool..._

"No!" Erik shouted and covered his ears. "NO! Shut up! SHUT UP!"

_"Relax, calm down,"_ Erik's voice penetrated her panic and she felt her mind go numb. She stared at the wall as scenes flashed before her eyes. What she had just witnessed was unfathomable and she found herself still in a state of shock as her brain tried to process the million and one thoughts running through it.

"You...he...they...YOU..." she stammered, knowing that she was not making any sense. Poor Erik! He had been born such a beautiful little boy, sweet and artistic. She could tell that all he had ever wanted was approval; approval that he had never gotten from his drug-addict mother and drunken abusive father. Tears welled up in her blue eyes as the horror of the day in the basement replayed in her mind. She could still see it, smell it, hear it. Shaking, she focused her gaze upon Erik, who had gotten up and was pacing around the room, mumbling to himself. Poor Erik! He had quickly lost the only person to ever show him kindness. No one could blame him for his dark moods after the childhood he had endured.

Christine yearned to comfort this man, even though he had frightened her terribly. Her heart went out to him. She got up and took a hesitant step toward him. Somehow, she had to make see that everything would be alright.

"Erik..." she spoke, barely louder than a whisper.

"No!" She was startled by Erik's sudden outburst. "NO! Shut up! SHUT UP!" He covered his ears.

Taken aback and slightly offended, Christine took a step back and was about to leave the room when Erik wearily dropped to his knees, burying his face in his arms and trembling.

"I'm a monster, I'm a monster," he began wailing and rocking on the floor, still trembling. Christine had never seen anything like it and tears streamed down her cheeks. _How can a man be so strong and intimidating one minute be reduced to a severely injured childlike state the next?_ Maternal instinct kicked in and within moments, Christine was at his side, cradling him in her arms.

"Shh, shh," she whispered and began to rock the trembling man soothingly. "It's alright. You're alright. Easy now."

He grabbed her arm and clung tight as if she were his anchor to keep him from plunging into some unknown darkness. She could feel her flesh bruising, but the pain was far away. Right now, she was focused on the task of trying to calm the poor man. His weight becoming too heavy for her to hold up, she sat cross-legged on the floor next to him and gently laid his head in her lap. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair and rubbed his back.

_This is all you're fault, you know,_ her mind said. _If you hadn't gone and removed his mask you two would have enjoyed a wonderful night instead of this. He would have showed you in due time but no, you had to satisfy your curiosity. And to think that you thought you might be falling for him._

_I was,_ she desperately replied back.

_Nice way of showing it,_ it taunted. _You go and betray his trust. You know he doesn't trust people easily. Why? Because of people like you._

_NO! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to._

"I'm so sorry, Erik. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," she whispered, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Christine. It's all my fault, " Erik whispered. Christine focused on him again, startled. He blamed himself! She looked to see if he was really talking to her, but the glazed-over look in his eyes told her that he was lost in a similar mist that had consumed her consciousness only moments ago. His body wracked with painful sobs and he mumbled inaudibly. She had to make him stop crying. She knew from experience that crying this hard for this long could be detrimental. At a loss for any other solution, she took a deep breath and began to sing.

_That your baby boy would one day walk on water?  
Mary, did you know that your baby boy  
would save our sons and daughters?_

_Did you know that your baby boy  
has come to make you new;  
the child that you delivered  
will soon deliver you?_

_Mary, did you know that your baby boy  
will give sight to a blind man?  
Mary, did you know that your baby boy  
will calm the storm with His hand?_

_Did you know that your baby boy  
has walked where angels trod?  
When you kiss your little baby,  
you kiss the face of God!  
Oh Mary did you know?_

_Oh Mary did you know?  
The blind will see, the deaf will hear  
the dead will live again.  
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak  
the praises of the Lamb._

_Mary, did you know that your baby boy  
is Lord of all creation?  
Mary, did you know that your baby boy  
will one day rule the nations?_

_Did you know that your baby boy  
is Heaven's perfect Lamb?  
The sleeping child you're holding  
is the great I Am!  
_

_Mary did you know?_

Erik stilled as Christine's sweet voice filled the air. His breathing returned to normal and the sobbing stopped. He felt as if he had been at the edge of a dark abyss and if he had fallen, his sanity would have been lost forever. It was then that he first felt her presence next to him and her arms gently cradling his shaking form. His muscles screamed in protest, but he could not relax. He felt her lower into a sitting position and gently pull him down into a fetal position on the floor. It was like a dream and he knew it could not be reality. Why would this poor girl who he had hurt so badly be comforting a monster? Suddenly, the most wonderful music filled the room and a wave of calm washed over him. It sounded like an angel from Heaven came down to him; momentarily, Erik thought he might have passed away. No, that can't be right. If he was dead, it would be Hell that awaited him, not Heaven. He slowly opened his eyes and gazed upon the girl, no...the _woman_ who was comforting him. She was rocking him and lost in her singing so she was not aware that he had come back to her. Not wanting to ruin the moment, he sighed and allowed himself to get lost in her voice. She was and angel, his Angel of Music. She was the one his grandmother had told him about. His heart spoke to him and he listened.

All too soon, the song ended and the last notes faded into silence. Christine broke out of her daze and looked down to Erik who was gently smiling up at her. She smiled back and closed her eyes as he reached up and tenderly tucked one of her chocolate curls behind her ear. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she had forgiven him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, but he was granted it.

Slowly, he pulled himself into a sitting position and faced Christine. No words needed to be spoken as he gave a look that said "Thank you" and she gave him her silent "You're welcome."

Clearing his throat, Erik asked hoarsely, "Is that the song you are using for the audition?"

Christine blushed and nodded in reply.

"Splendid, it's quite beautiful. You need to practice." He stood up and offered Christine his hand. She looked up indignantly, but smiled when she noticed the teasing twinkle in his eyes. Of course she needed to practice. She always needed to practice, and Erik needed to teach her. Her audition for the college's annual Christmas Showcase was the next morning, which meant that this was her last day in Erik's vocal "boot camp". Even after the events of the last several hours, Christine was surprised to find herself feeling a pang of sadness knowing that she would be leaving and had to go back to the realities of life.

Erik excused himself to wash up and encouraged Christine to change into a fresh set of clothes as well.

"Christine! You're back!" Meg squealed when Christine walked down the hall to her blonde friend's door. She leapt from her chair, the textbook in her lap falling to the floor, and rushed over to embrace her returning friend.

"I am," Christine replied. After a light day of vocal work and fine tuning, Erik had led Christine down the stairs into the basement and through a labyrinth of underground passageways until they finally emerged in a hidden corner backstage of the Crawford College concert hall. He had decided against taking her straight into her room through the mirror.

"We were worried since you didn't even tell us you were leaving," Meg said. She pulled back and looked Christine in the face. Christine checked to make sure her hair fell precisely over her face to help hide the bruise on her cheek. She wanted to avert any inquiry over her injury's origins. "Why didn't you leave a note or call us or leave a message?"

Christine averted her friend's look and lowered her eyes. She had known all along that the questioning was going to happen. She hated lying to her friends but she knew it was necessary. She had sworn to her Angel that she would not tell anyone the truth about where she had been for the past week. On the way back to her room, she had practiced her answers so she wouldn't contradict herself.

"It was a last minute thing and I didn't have a chance to call," she replied.

"Ah! Little Lotte has returned to us!" said a male voice from behind Christine as he encircled his arms around her petite waist and gently kissed her cheek.

"Hi, Raoul," she turned her head and smiled.

"Where have you been? I tried calling your cell several times, but you had it off. We were worried."

"And by 'several times' he really means about two hundred and fifty times per day," Meg interjected.

She laughed a little to cover the empty spot in her stomach. She really hated lying to Raoul.

"So I noticed when I got back. My battery died and I had forgotten my charger in my haste to leave. Grandma Emmy was really bad. It was touch and go for a while there, but I think she's going to be alright."

Raoul squeezed her in support and Meg gave a sympathetic nod. She lowered her head and looked at Christine out of the corner of her eye. Christine was hiding something. She had a gut instinct that told her that something was not right. Raoul seemed to be buying her story, but things did not add up. Christine had somehow found time to inform all of her professors that she was going to be missing class, yet she claimed she was too busy to quickly tell her two "best friends" that she was leaving for a week to visit a foster grandmother from a family that didn't even care enough to help Christine move in to college. Meg found it all too hard to believe. She would get to the bottom of this.

"So, what was wrong with your Grandma Emmy?" she inquired, smirking at the brief panicked expression on the brunette's face. She probably would not have noticed it if she had not been looking for it.

"Um, well...you know how old people get. What isn't wrong with them?" Christine chuckled to buy herself some time to think. Why did she suddenly feel like she was being examined?

"True," Meg chuckled along with the other two before pressing on. "But something specific had to be wrong to make you leave so fast."

"Meg, she just got back. What's with all the questions?" Raoul spoke up from behind Christine. He could tell that she was tensing up and could feel her heartbeat speed up as Meg questioned her. _Why is Meg questioning her as if she's on trial? _ he thought. He never could totally understand Megan Giry.

"She, ah, had a bad stroke," Christine replied finally. "She had slipped into a coma and the doctors weren't sure if she was going to ever wake up."

"And did she?"

"Thankfully, yes." Christine sighed and then yawned. It had been a long tiring day, and without getting a decent night's sleep the evening before, Christine was exhausted.

"Alright, you," Raoul said, gently guiding her toward the door. "You look exhausted. Time for bed, I think."

She nodded in response and said good night to Meg before returning to her own room. She was very thankful that Raoul had been too caught up in her return to notice her unusual hair style. Without even bothering to change into pajamas, she pulled back the covers and flopped into bed. It would not do to be tired during auditions.

In the moments before sleep overtook her, she thought she could faintly hear a sweet male voice quietly singing a lullaby. Before she could figure out if it was real or just in her mind, she drifted off into the black oblivion.


	15. Sing for Me

Chapter 15 Sing for Me

Christine winced as she carefully applied cover-up to hide the discoloration on her face. It seemed to have gotten darker since the night before and the florescent lighting over the bathroom mirror was not helping. Sighing, she closed her cosmetic bag and left the bathroom. Her audition was in two hours and she could already feel the familiar sensation of butterflies in her stomach. She had yet to eat anything that morning for fear of being ill; however, she found a breakfast tray waiting on her desk when she stepped back into the room. She looked around and saw that the room was empty. She thought she heard a faint rustle of fabric coming from the far side of her room, but common sense told her it was just the curtains catching a draft.

Smiling, she turned her attention back to the tray before her. Christine picked up the familiar cream, black-lined stationary and carefully slid her finger under the red wax seal to open it.

_My dearest Christine,_

_I hope you enjoyed your time spent with me. Your singing has improved exponentially over the past week and I have total faith in your abilities, as should you._

_I apologize if I frightened you that night and I just need you to realize that I would rather die than to see any harm come to you, especially by my own hand. While I seek it, I do not deserve your forgiveness for striking you._

_You must be nervous for your audition this morning, but it is important for you to eat something..._

She smiled and picked up the warm bagel. Taking a bite, she continued to read.

_If you feel nervous, just sing for me. Though you will not see me, I swear to you that I will be there for you today. Sing for me, my angel, and let your spirit soar toward the heavens through your voice. _

_Your Angel of Music,_

_Erik_

Christine finished the food and sipped the mug soothing tea before adding the familiar thorn-less, ribbon-tied red rose to the vase on her desk. She was surprised at how even the older roses were still healthy and in bloom.

"Thank you, Erik, for all you have done," she whispered to the empty room, confident that he could hear her. "I hope I make you proud."

* * *

Erik waited until Christine left for the bathroom before carefully sliding the mirror glass aside and placing a breakfast tray on her desk. He pulled an envelope and red rose from his trench coat pocket and placed them on the tray. He knew Christine would be a nervous wreck for her audition and would not eat. The last thing that poor girl needed was to faint on stage due to low blood sugar. He had made a special lemon chamomile tea to help sooth her throat and calm her mind.

Lost in his thoughts, Erik startled when her heard Christine walking down the hallway. She walked so lightly that her footsteps hardly made a sound, but his fine-tuned hearing picked up on it just in time. He bolted across the room and slid the mirror back into place as Christine entered the room. She casually glanced in the direction of her mirror, but the tray captured her attention.

Erik watched the girl through the glass as she read the note he had left. An innocent smile crossed her features as she read. A sense of peace washed over him as he watched her, and stopped breathing for a minute to hear her sweet whisper.

"_I hope I make you proud."_

He waited until she departed before he sighed and whispered his reply, "You always will."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Christine stood alone in one of the empty practice rooms in Farber Auditorium and focused on her breathing and position.

_That's it, my angel. Just breathe deep and relax_, she could hear her masked tutor's voice in her head. She looked around to make sure he was not actually there, but quickly realized it was just her imagination repeating instructions she had heard him utter many times over the past week. She had already warmed up and had gone over her scales. All that was left to do was to go over her piece once and try to stay calm until it was time for her audition. Christine opened her mouth to begin when a loud clattering erupted. She turned to see Carlotta storming into the practice room followed by her usual entourage. Fury shone in the eyes of the obnoxious girl as she looked at Christine with disdain.

"You must leave me to rehearse in peace. Oot vith you." Christine stared at her with disbelief. Did Carlotta just tell her to leave the practice room?

"I beg your pardon! I do believe I was here first and seeing as my audition time is before yours, you have time to find a vacant practice room," she glared back. Carlotta laughed smugly.

"And you belief dat you will get the lead role in zees production? You silly silly girl. Of course it is _I_ who will receive zee leading part. Do not be a fool Miss...ah..."

"Daaé, my name is Christine Daaé, you self-centered bitch and if you think for one minute you can..."

"Do not be a fool Miss _Daaé_. You do not possess zee skills or talent needed to truly be a prima donna," she interrupted arrogantly. "Now be gone vith you!"

Christine once again began to protest, but heard her name being called. It was her time to audition and she hadn't had a chance to go over her piece. Muttering curses under her breath, she offered Carlotta one last glare and left the room. As soon as the door closed, her confidence fled and she began to shake. The last thing she had needed was to get upset before such an important event and she felt Carlotta's words sink to her core.

_ Do not be a fool Miss Daaé. You do not possess the skills or talent needed to truly be a prima donna..._ Christine shook her head to get the words out of her mind, but already she could feel self-doubt creeping in. She walked onto the brightly lit stage and had to squint to see the judges.

"Name?" she heard from the darkness.

"C-Christine Daaé, m-ma'am," she stuttered. The opening chords for her song hit her ears as she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She inhaled and opened her mouth to sing, but no sound came out. Her creamy skin paled and her eyes were wide with fear. The accompanist stopped abruptly and Christine could hear one of the male judges, Mr. Andre, clear his throat.

"Miss Daaé, is there something wrong?"

"I'm-I'm sorry, s-sir. May I t-take a moment?" she croaked.

"Just a moment. We have a tight schedule," came the brusque reply.

"T-thank you," she turned to walk off stage when she was suddenly consumed in darkness. There were surprised outbursts from throughout the building as people tried to figure out what had happened.

"_Relax, Christine," _a familiar male voice whispered in her ear.

She shivered from its close proximity and could feel him step closer to her. Although she could not see Erik in the pitch-black auditorium, his presence alone gave her strength to push her apprehensions aside. His hands gently roamed over her upper body to place her in correct position.

"_Sing for me._"

Christine took a few deep breaths before the nervous chatter of the room was silenced by an angelic voice emanating through the darkness.

_Mary did you know_

_That your baby boy..._

With each passing note, Christine could feel her confidence grow and was taking full command of center-stage when the lights came back on. The accompanist attempted to play along for a measure, but was waved off by Madame Giry. The judges appeared to be entranced by Christine's acapella performance. The floodlights illuminated the girl's delicate features and wide white smile.

_Mary did you know?_

_  
_She held the last note and let it smoothly fade off into silence. For a moment, not a sound was heard. Suddenly, loud cheering and clapping came from the rear. Christine shielded her yes from the glare, and saw her blonde friend dragging Raoul down the aisle. She giggled at the amount of shrieking Meg was doing, and embraced her as the two ran up on stage.

"Excuse me, miss. We are holding auditions. You're not to be here, " Mr. Andre said sternly.

"I'm sorry, sir," Meg replied. "But you don't need anymore. You have your star right here!" She grabbed Christine's shoulders.

"MEG!" Christine hissed, flush-faced with embarrassment.

"Come on, Meg, " Raoul tried to subdue his friend. "We need to leave before we all get thrown out."

"You did great, " he said softly to Christine and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before guiding Meg off stage. The brunette turned her attention back to the judges.

"I'm sorry about the disruption," she apologized.

"Thank you, Miss Daaé. The cast list will be posted at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you!" she said excitedly before running to join her friends backstage to celebrate her audition. Before she left the stage wing, a hand grasped her arm and spun her harshly. Christine's eyes went wide when she found herself staring at the face of Carlotta.

"So, yous all smiles after zee little performance. Dat vas children's play. Vatch a REAL star perform," she hissed and proceeded onto the stage. Rubbing her sore arm, Christine turned on her heel and marched backstage, determined not to let her good mood be fouled by and egotistical snob.

Meg and Raoul were waiting next to her backpack in the now-empty practice room.

"You were great! Absolutely fantastic!" Raoul picked up Christine and spun her around before setting her gently back down and gently kissing her forehead. She giggle and smiled at her two friends.

"Thanks, guys! I thought I was a goner for a little while there, but I was saved by a miracle."

"Miracle?" Meg quirked an eyebrow. "The lights cutting out isn't a miracle. It was a distraction. Although, it did add a dramatic effect."

"Sure did!" Raoul turned to his Little Lotte. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

Christine hesitated a moment. She had thought about meeting with Erik again. She had only been away from his secret house for less than a day, but she felt a strange longing to return. It was as if the time and the world had ceased to exist in his realm. Finally, she shook her head.

"Good, I am going to take you out for a celebration dinner."

"Ah, isn't it a little early to be celebrating? I won't know if I got the part until late tomorrow afternoon."

"I'm being optimistic. Besides, I don't know how anyone could have done better than you."

Christine agreed to have Raoul pick her up at six.

"Hey, Meg. Are you coming too?" she asked the blonde who had preoccupied herself in the corner. Christine did not want to leave her best friend out of the festivities. Meg looked up, startled, at the mention of her name. She recovered quickly and hid the objects she had been examining, out of view.

"No, thanks. You two go out and have a great time. I need to study for my Theories exam anyway."

Christine shugged and picked up her backpack. Taking Raoul's offered arm, the couple exited the practice room. Only when she was sure that they had left, did Meg pull her hand out from behind her back. There was a red rose with a black ribbon and a note written in fancy handwriting congratulating Christine on her performance. Judging from the rose, Meg had deduced that it was Christine's secret guy, Erik (as the note was signed), who had left it on her backpack.

More and more, Meg had been trying to figure out who this person was. She knew she had to find out soon because it looked as if Raoul and Christine were getting very close. If someone was trying to interfere with their happiness, Meg was determined to put a stop to it.

"She is his, you bastard. Stay the hell away from her!" she said to the empty room. If this _Erik _guy was listening, she wanted him to hear her thoughts on the matter. She tore up the note and ripped the petals from the stem before breaking it in half and throwing them in the trashcan.

"_Do not meddle in affairs of which you know nothing about, Little Giry. I would hate for an unfortunate circumstance to befall you." _

Wide-eyed, Meg turned and searched the room for the owner of the voice. Seeing nothing but the empty practice room, she glared.

"Do not threaten me and stay hiding. Too much of a coward to face me, hmmm?"

Getting no reply, the blonde girl huffed, "That's what I thought!" before stormed out of the room.

As soon as Meg had left, Erik deemed it safe to slip out of the shadows. Holding a simmering anger inside, he made is way over to the trashcan and glanced at the destroyed token of his affection. He could feel his muscles tightening and his fists clenched at his sides.

_Calm yourself, Erik, _he thought to himself. Giving in to his anger over this little incident would simply not do. Slowly, his body relaxed and his mind cleared.

_I will forgive you for this little misstep, Little Giry, on account of your ignorance; however, I will not tolerate arrogant people poking their noses where they don't belong. You're on the radar now, sweetheart, so watch yourself.

* * *

_

_**As is the usual, I thrive on reviews (the fact that they've been dwindling on the past few chapters hasn't helped to urge me on with this story :-P ) Thanks to those who have taken the time. I promise to respond to each one with at least a thanks.**__  
_


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